The Butterfly Effect
by Gramm485
Summary: After Ada's mission in Spain, the organization's plans change unexpectedly. An unknown group is targeting the organization, and Ada is dispatched to neutralize the threat. Little does she know that the American government has begun to trail her.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Ada panted lightly, a thin glaze of sweat forming on her forehead. The small cut above her plucked eyebrow wasn't draining any blood into her eye, at least not yet. Instead, it trickled down the side of her face like a crimson tear; she could feel it slowly creeping closer to her eye with each passing moment. Her bruising throat was making it difficult to breathe. The swelling had crept into her trachea; any more and she would be wheezing. Time seemed to be moving at a snail's pace.

_Calm down...calm down...stay calm and collected at all times...you stupid bitch, don't let this happen again..._

Her mind repeated this over and over again, but she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, her pulse was rising and more adrenaline was pumping into her body. Just like it did in the bowels of the underground Raccoon lab, the last time a situation this dire occurred. The least she could do was keep her outward appearance set; it would put up the illusion that she was still in control. But that wouldn't do her any good. Sometimes, appearances weren't everything. If she wasn't calm and collected on the inside, things would begin to spiral _out_ of control.

The Beretta PX4 in her right hand felt like a lead brick, safety off. Her arm was outstretched full length, motionless, but aching with fatigue. Her left was draped to her side, sorer than all hell from the fight. The gun had a 17 round magazine. She had used 5 shots in the previous fight. Plenty of ammo left. But plenty of ammo for what? Did the man at the end of the sights deserve the cold 9mm round waiting in the chamber, or the other 11 in the magazine?

_Hardly._

Why had he come in the first place? Was it his orders, or was it his personal interests? Did he follow her because it was his job, or for who she was to him? It had all happened so fast. The assassin had turned and aimed as soon as he burst through the door. Then, chaos.

Ada's usually rock solid concentration began to deteriorate further. Her blinking increased, the perfect curve of her lashes dancing wildly over her almond shaped eyes. She wanted to look to her left, to hope that the wall of automatic rifles and submachine guns weren't pointed at her. But even looking in her position would only cast more suspicion to the growing heap already on her. She forced her eyes into his instead, knowing very well that she herself was at gunpoint. The shoulder harness wrapped around her body felt three sizes too small suddenly. Why had she fastened it so tight? It wasn't so bad an hour ago. Her aching left hand wanted to creep up and undo the fastening.

The floating dust in the room would reveal partial beams of the dozen or so laser sights positioned like cobwebs. The red dots they cast were mainly focused on the man, but Ada caught a flash of red on her chest; several were pointed at her.

_Think...think dammit! Stop wasting time!_

Every second her chances were slimming. If she was going to act, the time was now. Which choice was she going to make?

"_Can you really throw it all away?_" asked the cool, calculating agent in Ada Wong. "_The objective that you've fought tooth and nail for?_"

Her conscience presented the logical choice to the question: no, of course not. The last 6 years could not be wasted at any cost. Especially for something as fickle as an emotion. For all that work to go to waste would not only be stupid, it would be insane.

"_But what is it you want more?_" retorted the woman in Ada Wong.

She wanted him. Desperately. Damn her objectives, damn the organization. It was bad luck that things had played out the way they did, plain and simple bad luck. They were on opposite sides. She did everything to keep him away, but fate always seemed to draw them together again.

"_No, it's not fate,_" said the woman. "_It's you. You're the reason why. Are you really going to let him die because of that?_"

The two sides of Ada's mind clashed back and forth. The calculating agent had the upper hand, but the woman was strong. Ada still stood frozen with the gun outstretched in her hand. It gave a small shake, then steadied, still hovering on his breast, directly over his heart.

"Wong, what are you waiting for?" asked a distant voice, coming from the mass of guns to her left.

There was a soft set of clicks and the creaking sound of fabric as positions in the gunmen changed. The only reason they would be moving would be if they were acquiring a new target. The only other people in the room was the dead body to her right, and the man in front of her. Some of the red dots speckled on him disappeared. Ada didn't have to guess where they went; she was the new target.

_How many are there? What about their positions? If they're clustered right, I might have a chance._

"_I don't think so, sweetheart,_" the agent sneered, "_The surroundings are bad. You might have cover, but you can't see them all at once. Your outgunned and outnumbered. They'll be all over you."_

She was right, of course. The room was stacked with various boxes and other bits of clutter. Perfect for cover from bullets, but the gunmen had strength in numbers. If she tried anything, she would get blown away.

"She's _wrong,_" snapped the woman, referring to the agent. "_You have the skill to pull it off._"

Yet another counterexample. Her mind demanded an answer.

The agent: "_A simple squeeze of the trigger, and you're on your way to your goal. Just a minor inconvenience._"

True. Why should she care? All that mattered was her end goal. All the time she had spent working to achieve it would go down the drain, all because of him. She would be doing herself a favor; one less distraction to worry about in the future. With him out of the way, life would be so much easier.

The woman: "_A simple squeeze of the trigger, and you destroy one of the very few things that kept you going this whole time. Could you really live with yourself afterwards? May as well put the gun to your own head, you cold hearted bitch._"

Also true. He was what kept her human all this time. But so what if the woman was right? Then they would both die anyway. As soon as she acted, he would be gunned down. If he was lucky, they would all turn to her first, but even that wouldn't matter; he was unarmed.

"_But he would die knowing what you had was real,_" the woman said softly in her head.

Ada swallowed hard, already dreading the decision she made. It wasn't going to be easy for her.

_So this is it...Maybe, just maybe, there's an angel on my shoulder._

Ada breathed deeply, letting the cool air fill her lungs. The dust floating in it tickled her throat, but she maintained herself. She closed her eyes and felt her skin cool. Her heart was still beating quickly, but controllably. The gun gave one final tiny twitch, then was steady again. Ada opened her eyes, back in control. Time resumed its normal flow.

Her hand gripped tighter on the gun, and she released her breath, cocking the hammer back with her thumb...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_3 weeks earlier..._

Ada sighed in relief as the armored biohazard case securely locked. The dials on each corner twisted until a pleasant orange light appeared on each one, ensuring that the Las Plagas sample was safe. She gripped the edges of the case and looked up into the rising sun through the helicopter's windshield. Her mission was a success. She had been up for more than 24 hours straight, facing unspeakable horrors. Her limbs were stiffening from the withdrawal of adrenaline, and the inside of her red dress felt clammy. She ran a finger underneath the deep black ribbon that ran around her slender neck and down her back, feeling moisture beneath the silken fabric.

_All I want is a shower and a nice hot meal, then maybe a few hours in bed._

Unfortunately, the organization wouldn't be so gracious. Once they learned that she had the sample, they would demand it immediately. In fact, over the next few days, Ada would hardly get any sleep at all. The organization had made itself clear: Wesker was not to receive the Las Plagas parasite. He had gone on unleashed too long, and now it was time to put a stop to it. She would send him a fake sample, and then...

_Speak of the devil._

Her PDA had beeped, muted over the sound of the helicopter. She held it up to her face and switched it on. There was a pause as the satellite relayed the transmission, then Wesker appeared on the small screen.

"Do you have the sample?" Wesker always skipped greetings.

"Yes," she replied.

"Good. The meeting stays as planned. Don't be late." With that, he cut the transmission. Short and sweet, as always.

Ada slid the device back into it's sleeve in the holster on her thigh. She knew where her loyalties lie. From the very start, her pairing with Wesker was an act. The organization wanted her to keep a careful eye on their newest partner. Wesker had stabbed far too many backs in the past to be trusted. Every step and action she took over the past 6 years was meticulously planned and executed, from her escape from Raccoon City, to her very situation in Spain.

Wesker believed that she was retrieving the sample for himself. However, the organization had other plans. Wesker was just a pawn in their plans, no matter how important he thought himself to be. And Ada...

_More of a queen..._

She doubted that this would be the end of Wesker. The man, if you could call him that anymore, didn't go down so easily. Ada smiled to herself. She was certain that they would meet again. What would he think of her from this point on, that they were both betrayed by the organization? Would he welcome her as an ally, or see her as an enemy?

_He never did trust me completely from the start, but maybe he'll be feeling desperate. Heh. Not likely. I can hardly wait to play with him again._

The helicopter continued on it's eastern course, heading back to the mainland of Spain. The organization would be waiting there for her. Ada tipped her head back against the rough padding of the helicopter and closed her eyes, trying to nod off for a quick nap. It wasn't easy, the helicopter jostling her lightly around and it's rotating blades thwacking incessantly. Ada preferred to have the complete silence of her room and the comfort of her bed to sprawl out on. Unlike a lot of people, she couldn't will herself to sleep anywhere, regardless of how tired she was.

_Like Leon. I'm sure he's one of those guys._

The man had performed his part well, completely oblivious to the fact. He had done his job: saving Ashley Graham, helping eliminate Jack Krauser, and destroying the Los Illuminados cult. Ada had given him a few helpful prods every so often, but they were hardly needed. He was much more competent than he was in Raccoon City, almost a brand new man.

She thought about him more, finding that it took her mind off the uncomfortable helicopter ride. She wondered when she would see him next as well, and if it could finally be away from the organization's omnipresent eyes. They had met again for the first time in about 6 years. Ada felt a little bad about sticking a gun in his back, but there was no other way around it.

In an impressive show of technique, he managed catch her off guard and disarm her. She wasn't sure how he'd react when he saw that she was still alive; she definitely hadn't expected to see the fire in his eyes when he recognized her. At first, Ada expected him to show anger, anger for toying with him in Raccoon. She also expected him to be relieved that she was still alive. However, Leon showed neither. Instead, he showed a bizarre mix of acceptance and resolve.

_There was something else there too...Don't lie to yourself. _She shook her head. _Wishful thinking. There's no possible way he can feel the same way. How long as it been?_

Ada allowed herself another smile, dismissing her girlish thinking, then upon opening her eyes, she realized that the helicopter was landing. She was amazed that she had actually dozed off on the way to the mainland. The helicopter hovered above the ground for a few seconds, then gently touched down on the concrete tarmac of a Spanish airport. Ada took the case up in her hand, then hopped out the open door while the pilot shut the machine down.

Her black high heels clicked loudly on the pavement, almost seeming to dwarf the sound of the slowing helicopter rotors in her ears. Two of the organization's private jets was waiting on the tarmac in front of her. She strolled towards the one on the left, the cool morning breeze making her dress flutter and causing the printed butterflies to dance around her goosebump covered legs. She knew who was waiting on the jet.

Ignoring the suited man at the boarding stairs, she climbed into the plane. The inside cabin was eerily quiet compared to the outside sound of various aircraft taking off. The cabin was richly decorated; dark, polished wood bordered every edge. Instead of the usual rows of seats, there was a rounded table near the side of the cabin, half encircled with a plush booth. Ada sat down on the edge of the booth, placing the metal case on the glassy wooden table.

The plane was divided into two areas, separated by a partial wall and a curtain. Only seconds after Ada sat down, a woman emerged from the divide, wearing a sleek, unmarked black flight attendant's outfit. She would have been pretty, with her long legs in dark stockings and shimmery blond hair spilling down her back had it not been for the cold look on her face. Without a word, she plucked the case off the table, then took it through the divide. There was a moments pause, then Ada heard the sound of the electronic locks being released on the other side. Another pause.

"Well done, Miss Wong," said a male voice through the curtain. "You have the organization's gratitude."

"Glad to be of service," she replied coolly.

The voice on the other side of the curtain was polished and distinguished, a light flair of British to it. Although Ada had heard it before, she never met it's owner face to face. All she could do is put an imaginary face to it. Mid-thirties, handsome (of course), short brown hair with spike gelled bangs, and perhaps some well trimmed side burns. Whatever he looked like didn't matter; the owner of the voice was one of the organization's inner circle, the one with the most pull. Ada didn't know his name, but was only told to refer to him by his code name: Crow.

_Pure speculation, of course. He could be 50 or 60 for all I know and ugly as hell._

"I trust that everything went smoothly?"

Ada suppressed a smile. "As smoothly as it could have gone, I suppose." Ripping Velcro broke the quiet of the jet's cabin as she undid her holster from her thigh. It contained her sidearm, grapple gun, and PDA. She tossed it onto the polished table, then scratched at the chafing on her leg. Feeling something gritty underneath her fingernails, she retracted her hand and saw dark red flecks. Dried blood.

Back in the Los Illuminados' village, she was careless by aiding Leon. A tranq dart to the shoulder and a brief nap later, Ada awoke to an ancient battle ax aiming for her slender neck. She had somersaulted out of the way, but not before a sharp pain registered on her thigh. The look she shot the villager after assessing the damage was one for the album. It actually made him cringe. The field dressing she applied had fallen off sometime during the final fight with Saddler.

"Is something the matter?" asked Crow's pleasant voice.

"No, nothing," Ada replied, flicking the dried blood from her fingertips, then crossing her legs. "A villager just got a little too friendly with me."

Crow laughed. "I hoped you weren't too hard on him."

Ada gave a fake chuckle. She was already sick of small talk. All she wanted to do was take a shower, a nap, and get back State side. She leaned on the table and placed her hand in her cheek.

"I must apologize, Miss Wong, for not complimenting you earlier on your attire," said Crow. "Red is a most exquisite color on you. Of all the agents we have, you are definitely our most beautiful. And our most deadly."

Ada lifted her head a little, her eyes darting to the ceiling.

_Idiot. Just because I can't see him doesn't mean he can't see me._

The tiny camera embedded in the aircraft was watching the table and booth intently, or rather, watching _her_ intently. Her trained eyes saw the lens contract, zooming in on her. Crow was definitely a womanizer. The skirt on the flight attendant was a few inches short of regulation.

_A little creepy, but still better than Wesker. Speaking of which..._

"I assume our plans remain the same?"

Ada heard a small sigh through the curtain. "Unfortunately, there has been a change in plans while you were away." The stone faced flight attendant returned, carrying the biohazard case, then placed it on the table in front of her. "You will deliver the sample to Wesker, just as he thinks your suppose to."

Ada lifted her head completely out of her palm, then turned in the direction of the partial wall and curtain.

"What are you talking about?" Ada didn't expect him to give her a clear answer. She was just a go between.

"Certain...events occurred, and the organization must take a contingency plan. Wesker will have to wait."

Ada couldn't contain her irritable sigh.

"Deliver the sample to Wesker," Crow repeated. "You will hear from us with new orders."

"Don't you think that's a little risky?" Ada asked. "We know he's going to contact S sooner or later. Do you really want them to have a live sample of the parasite?"

"That's a risk the organization is willing to take. We can deal with S whether they have the parasite or not. Your only worry is to keep Wesker in the dark about our plans."

"And just how am I suppose to do that? He's bound to get suspicious sooner or later."

Crow chortled. "You've always been Wesker's favorite pet. I'm sure you'll do splendidly."

Ada scowled at the remark. _So much for being a queen. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with this. _She sighed again. Crow wasn't much better than Wesker sometimes. Like him, all Crow cared about were things, and how to use people to get more things.

_Well, look on the bright side, at least I'll get that shower now._

Ada placed her hand on top of the case, letting her nails glean off the surface. The metal glinted dully, hiding the tiny monster in itself. She wondered how good of an idea it was to give Wesker the parasite sample. It was an apocalypse waiting to happen. But then Ada thought of the other things he already obtained: the T-virus and the G-virus. Each one was also an Armageddon waiting to happen. She guessed it couldn't hurt to give him another way to end the world if he had two others already.

"Alright, fine," said Ada, trying not to sound too ungrateful.

"Good," said Crow. There was a faint sound of rustling fabric, as if Crow was adjusting his position in his chair. "Your payment for this mission has already been transferred to your account. As always, a pleasure."

"And do try to keep a stiff upper lip, Miss Wong," Crow added as she stood up to leave. "It does nothing for your looks if you scowl all the time."

_Pompous prick. You've been in the world of business for how many years, Ada Wong? Why are you still surprised? You earned a cool 6 digit paycheck, and you hate your bosses. Poster child for America._

Ada scooped up the biohazard case in one hand and her holster in the other, then marched off the jet, heading towards her own. It was pretty much the same: a small, sleek private plane supplied by the organization's almost limitless wealth, but this time it had no divider in the cabin; the whole plane was hers. She tossed the case and holster on one of the seats, then sat down as the plane taxied onto the runway, then took off. As soon as the plane reached cruising altitude some time later, Ada headed to the bathroom, complete with shower.

Only until she had stripped off her clammy dress and the hot water had soaked her thoroughly did Ada feel that her mission was over. A few bruises began to lift on her body, a result of her doings in Spain, but they would disappear quickly. The cut on her leg was another story. The water made the dry blood flow until the crimson streams flowed down her leg and pooled to the plastic shower floor. Ada poked it with her finger and winced. It was a long cut, but not too deep; six inches above her knee and about four or five across. It wouldn't leave a scar, and if did, a nearly invisible one. The blood on her leg washed away eventually, and no more flowed from the already scabbing cut.

She cut her shower painfully short. The plane didn't have a large water tank, and Ada hated nothing more than catching cold water in a shower. She snaked her hand out of the bathroom door and took her towel from the hook, gave herself a brief dry, then wrapped it around her body. After giving her leg wound a brief application of First Aid Spray and some bandages, she changed into a less glamorous shirt and pair of jeans.

It would be a while before the jet reached America. Ada settled herself into a seat next to the biohazard case and tried to doze off again. The gentle hum was relaxing, but Ada still found it hard to fall asleep. She was still more than a little irked that she was forced to continue her charade at Wesker's side. What could have set the organization's plans behind?

Her thoughts drifted to Leon again. He had helped her fall asleep before, and she hoped he could do it again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Leon tried to fight off the wave of fatigue that hit him like truck, but the comfortable limousine seemed determine to put him to sleep. Hunnigan sat on the other side of the interior, busily typing on a laptop computer, the dull sound of the keys indicating that her typing speed was somewhere around sixty words per minute. Leon was pleased to see that she still didn't have her glasses on.

_She looks loads better with them off. I wonder why she was wearing them in the first place? Ran out of contacts?_

Hunnigan caught him staring and gave him a warning look, her hands not breaking stride. The pretty young agent served as Leon's support while he was in Spain. It seemed like she dealt with a lot of the paperwork in the agency as well. Very few people could type that fast. It was either that, or she was also working in the code breaking division. Seeing how young she was, that didn't seem to be a possibility. Leon shot a grin back at her and she rolled her eyes.

Next to Hunnigan sat John Fischer, director of the Government Security Agency. The secret group contained the security force that protected the president and his family, which Leon worked for, as well as multiple combat and infiltration teams. The entire agency was a ghost organization: the public wasn't aware of its existence. It took months for Leon to get into the program, and months of training afterwards. The training made SEAL training look like a walk in the park.

It was a few hours after Ashley had been reunited with her father, President Graham. That had been a touching scene, one for the papers. Leon wasn't sure if he could look at President Graham the same way after he cried so much. The official story was that she was abducted by Russian extremists. The public would never know of what really happened in Spain; they would be a lot calmer without knowing about the plague that almost infected the entire world.

Now that that his mission was complete, Leon had to go through the process of debriefing. It was a boring, mundane task compared to his actual mission and life in general. He hated it every time he had to do it. That had ended long ago, but still, Director Fischer wanted to talk to him about something.

_Obviously work related, because otherwise I'd be passed out on my couch right about now._

Leon hadn't even had time to take some of his gear off. He had taken the liberty of at least loosening the tactical holster he wore around his body. His sidearm was still in it's place under his arm and his knife in it's sheath on his holster. The rest of his gear had either been relinquished or expended. Both of his grappling hooks were gone, and any incendiary or explosive devices were given to the recovery team after they were picked up. The prototype two way transmitter he used to communicate with Hunnigan was also among the things he handed over. Leon couldn't say he was sorry to be rid of the bulky thing that had been mostly useless the entire time.

Although he was mostly unscathed, Leon had several minor wounds: small cuts and a few bruises. A few sutures were on his cheek, holding the slice Krauser had made during a viscious knife fight. A field dressing was placed over a deep cut on his left thigh, a reminder of what the influence of the parasite had done.

He wasn't trying to be rude, but he was in danger of falling asleep in front of his boss. It wasn't his fault. The pills he had been taking to suppress the growth of the parasite implanted in him contained a host of amphetamines. He was wired after the mission, but now the drugs were wearing off, and he was suffering one hell of a crash. His body screamed for him to go to sleep so it could begin to heal.

Leon really didn't care what Hunnigan thought, but Fischer signed his paychecks. He didn't know him too well, having only met him personally once or twice, so he wasn't sure if saving the president's daughter would exempt him from being a jerk in his eyes.

"I know you're probably tired, Agent Kennedy," said Fischer, "But there is something that I want to discuss with you while it's fresh in your mind."

Leon straightened his head, jerking out of a nod, and tried to keep his eyes alert. He leaned forward, gripping his knee tightly, trying to focus. At least Fischer was acknowledging the obvious.

"It's no problem, sir. What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

Hunnigan paused in her typing, one hand still working the keyboard while the other reached into a small satchel, procuring a manila folder. She handed it to Fischer, then resumed her focus on her work.

"We know there was a third party involved in this incident, besides these so-called Los Illuminados," stated Fischer. "Krauser's reappearance confirms this. We've spoken briefly to Miss Graham concerning her abduction. She's been through a lot; we didn't want to put any more strain on her, so we weren't able to get much."

_Lucky her. Wish I had that kind of pampering._

_"_Along with Krauser," continued Fischer, handing Leon the folder, "There was a woman, according to Miss Graham, in a red dress. Can you confirm this?"

As if on cue, Leon opened the folder. The first few pages he didn't bother reading. His eyes were drawn instead to the small picture paper clipped to the corner. His fatigue vanished, washed away by a sudden surge of adrenaline. The picture was black and white and a little grainy. There were other people in the photo, but there was a figure slightly off centered, circled in a red marker, obscured by the other unimportant figures. There was no mistaking it; the ebony hair, the perfect face.

It was Ada.

"Yeah," he said heavily, staring at the photo. "I saw her."

"That picture was taken in Virginia several years ago. There was an incident involving some post Umbrella fanatics. One of our teams went in to apprehend them after they began to threaten the general public."

Leon turned through the first few pages. They were reports from the mission, detailing location, time, and individuals. Apparently this mission occurred just after he was promoted to White House security, so he was out of the strike force division.

"The op was going smooth, then she made an appearance. The entire situation went to hell, and she escaped with several files before the team could apprehend her. Once the situation was resolved, the perpetrators were interrogated. The said that they'd heard rumors of a woman of Asian decent working for an organization interested in collecting bioweapon research. When shown this picture, they confirmed that that was her."

Leon flipped through the folder, but there were no more pictures, only reports.

"That's why she was in Spain," Leon reported. "She was after a sample of the Plagas parasite.."

_And she got it too._ His fingers tightened on the file, crinkling the edges. _Ada, what are you up to?_ Her silent picture didn't give him an answer.

"Did she succeed?"

"Yes sir. Stuck a gun to my head to get it."

Fischer's brow furrowed. "We already know that Albert Wesker has similar goals, and we believe that he and the woman are in contact. We can assume he has the parasite. Needless to say, this isn't good."

"How long have we known about her?" Leon ventured to ask. This was the first time he'd heard of this.

"Quite a while, I'm afraid," said Fischer, rubbing his chin. "As I said, that incident occurred several years ago. We began our investigation of this organization since then, and have turned up almost nothing. You've encountered this woman in Spain. I know your duties are presidential security, but I want you in on this investigation." He leaned forward a bit.

"Do you have any theories, Agent Kennedy?"

"Well, for starters, I know who she is," Leon said slowly.

Hunnigan stopped typing briefly then looked up in surprise, but quickly resumed her work.

"Sorry," Fischer said, "You _know _her?"

Leon nodded. "Ada Wong. I met her in Raccoon six years ago. She was working undercover to steal the G-virus from the Umbrella laboratory near the city."

"You didn't think to mention that sooner?"

"I'm sorry sir, but during the mission, the radio was jammed, and...I must have forgotten about it until I saw this file."

That was a blatant lie. True, the radio was jacked, and Leon hadn't been able to communicate with Hunnigan for the majority of the mission. Leon hadn't forgotten about Ada, though. It was the complete opposite. The fact that she was still alive had invaded every crevice of his brain. The woman in red was all he thought about on the way back to America. Fischer seemed to let it go.

"I read the report you gave us on Raccoon. I thought you said she died."

"She did," Leon said flatly. "But then again, so did Krauser. I _saw_ her die. That's why I didn't bother bringing her up."

"And yet, here she is, alive." Pondering the concept, Fischer leaned back. "Could this be something as stupid as having a twin sister or a look alike?"

Leon shook his head. "No, she knew who I was in Spain. Trust me, it's her. I confronted her about her partnership with Wesker and his organization. She didn't openly deny it, but she didn't confirm it either."

"I see," said Fischer. "We believe that this woman, Wong, is our best chance at finding Wesker and his organization. We'll have a much better chance at finding her then him. Take a few days and rest up. Then I want you to start to track her down."

Leon blinked, amazed. In a little more than a second, he had been stripped of his position in presidential security and set back to what was considered grunt work in the agency.

"Uh, what about my current assignment?" he asked slowly. "Protecting the president's family?"

"Rest assured, Agent Kennedy, we have plenty more agents up to the task. Security for Miss Graham will double."

_There goes her social life._

"Security in the White House has also doubled, as well as President Graham's entourage. In light of this recent mission, the agency has decided to step up security protocol for the time being."

Leon reached up and scratched the back of his neck. He didn't feel like sleeping anymore.

"Sir, I'm not sure how beneficial this will be. Ada's remained a ghost for the past six years. I don't even know where to begin."

"We're willing to devote a sizable force to this assignment," Fischer said. "Hopefully, she'll have gotten sloppy somewhere and left a trail for us to follow. Don't worry about it for the next few days. You've been through hell, and you need to recuperate. We're already on the way to headquarters."

Leon tipped his head back against the seat rest, sighing. Hunnigan's typing still sounded at it's blurring pace. Ada Wong...quite possibly the most paradoxical woman to have graced the planet. Leon only knew her for a few short hours in Raccoon City. Those hours weren't spent getting acquainted, either. He knew almost nothing of her, and now he had the task of tracking her down.

The limo stopped outside of the GSA headquarters. Leon departed, leaving Hunnigan and and Fischer. They had their own tasks to worry about. Once inside and through security, Leon turned in his weapons and gear to the armory. He took a brief shower in the locker room, then changed back into his street clothes. He didn't bother with putting his holster back on. Since his jacket was lost in Spain, he had no way of concealing his weapon, and he couldn't go walking around with a visible weapon.

The entire time, Ada never left his mind. Just who was this enigmatic woman? She said that she was working for Wesker. Leon frowned as he buttoned up his shirt. No, she didn't. All she had said was "I see you've been doing your homework..." That deep, sultry purr of her voice. Not exactly a clear answer. Did her appearance in Spain go further than what the government thought?

_I see her for the first time in six years, and just like that, she's gone again. Does Fischer really expect for me to be able to track her down?_

Leon felt his pocket, at the object inside of it. He pulled it out, forgetting that he even had it. It was the key to the jet ski that Ada had supplied for him to escape the island.

_And why did she help me? First she pulled a gun on me, then she saved me from Krauser._ _Then there was the incident in the cave..._

Leon felt the wound on his leg from where Ada stabbed him. For a brief moment, the parasite that had been implanted in him had taken over. Against his will, he grabbed Ada by the throat with his bare hands, and began to choke the life out her. He shuddered. She could have easily killed him in defense, but she instead neutralized him with a flesh wound and a quick knee to the ribs.

_I knew it was wrong, and I tried to stop it, but it felt so...good._ Leon shuddered a second time. _It felt good to strangle her. But was it the parasite, or was it me?_

As soon as Ada had reacted, Leon snapped back to reality. The feelings he felt disappeared. In the place of the blood lust was a feeling of shame and regret. It had to have been the parasite's feelings, not his. He hoped.

_Then Ada, or whoever else was working with Ada, wired that island to explode. And again, she helped me. Without this key, me and Ashley would have gone up in flames. I almost wish that Fischer was right about her being two people. One's nice, the other's-_

Leon stopped thinking abruptly. Of course, the key! It was the lead he needed to get started. He shook the keychain and the little bear on the end jiggled. He could find out where that jet ski was sold. The agency still had it; it had been confiscated when they picked up Ashley and himself. He just had to follow the trail. It would be tough, almost impossible, but if Ada had been there, people would remember her. She wasn't the type of woman you forgot about.

Leon ran a hand through his hair, sighed, then stood up, stuffing the teddy bear key chain into his pocket. He took his backpack from his locker and threw it hastily over his shoulder. He wanted to get back to his apartment and get some sleep. Maybe in the morning he would have more of a clear conscience.

He made his way through the winding halls of headquarters. The GSA was constantly doing something, and the offices and rooms were always busy. Men and women worked tirelessly to monitor situations across the nation and world. Leon was used to working long hours, even spending the night. For once, he could go home early.

Out in the parking lot, Leon started up his Jeep, then hit the road back to his apartment. It was a little after 8:00pm, and traffic was light. He was home in a matter of minutes, and he parked his car in the basement lot of his building. After keying in, he tossed his backpack in the corner of the room and slumped on his bed, burying his head in between two pillows.

_Ada Wong..._

She drifted into Leon's conscience again. She had changed so little since he last saw her; still beautiful, still deadly, and still manipulative. When he first met her, he was taken aback by all of these characteristics, almost lured by them. Even now, they caught him off guard.

The slinky red dress she had been wearing accented her every feature perfectly. The very way she moved begged that she be on stage in a high class gentleman's club, not in the middle of a dirty rural village in Spain.

Ada's combative skills increased exponentially since Raccoon. She had been a good shot, but now she seemed to possess a remarkable talent for hand to hand combat. Leon had gotten the drop on her, locking her into an arm bar then simply plucked her gun away, just as he'd done a hundred times in training. She surprised him with an amazing display of coordinated acrobatics that would have worked had Leon been a second slower.

Then her most defining quality. Once again, Leon played right into her game. Every time he thought he could see her intentions, she pulled a 180 on him. She'd help him, then betray him. Leon fell for it every time. But even though she couldn't be trusted for a second, Leon found himself wishing he could.

_At least I'm not dead. If she wanted to kill me, I would have been dead since Raccoon._ _She had plenty of times to waste me back then as well as in Spain. Instead, she just toys with me. _A flash of anger coursed through him. _Is this a game to her? Does she get off on stuff like this?_ He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts and feeling guilty at his sudden burst of ego.

_Maybe she _is _playing a game._

However, until Leon caught her and had her securely behind bars, he would never know what game she was playing, and if he was even a part of it. In a few days, the chase would begin.

Hopefully, it would lead to answers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Ada's boots thumped down on the concrete floor rather noisily, but she wasn't trying to be stealthy. The sound echoed hollowly down the empty hall. No one patrolled these parts in years, not even vagrant junkies, let alone security. She wondered if it was Wesker's sense of humor that had picked the meeting place, or if it was his sense of decoration. The trim black briefcase she held in her left hand contained the metal case which contained the parasite. It was a necessary cosmetic adjustment. She could move the sample without suspicion, which made getting to meeting point a lot easier.

The meeting point was an old subway station, derelict and closed down in the center of New York. All Ada had to do was sneak in through the tracks off of a closer station in use. No one had noticed her as she simply hopped off the boarding platform and melted into the shadows of the tunnel.

The door that led to the the abandoned part of the station was close, only a short walk down the tunnel. It was almost rusted shut; Ada could barely make out the word "maintenance" plastered on the door in decade old paint. It would have taken a small block of plastic explosives to open it again, or about six strong men with crowbars, but it already stood ajar. Ada immediately saw why: the metal near the latch was dented inward, almost shredded away.

_He's already here._

Wesker had finesse, but sometimes lacked subtlety. Now walking beyond the mauled door, she headed deeper into the unused facility. Ada's heart beat a little faster. As much as she wasn't afraid of him or the dark, the place was undeniably creepy.

_Why didn't I think to bring a flashlight? Idiot. This is a great way to sprain an ankle._

Ada's eyes slowly adjusted. The maintenance hallway wasn't pitch black; several small lights glowed through ventilation shafts from the adjoining subway tunnel. A low rumble echoed, slowly turning into a loud roar. A subway passed in the neighboring tunnel, illuminating the tunnel briefly with a bright white light. Ada's eyes reset, and the hall became dark once again. She blinked heavily, mentally cursing at the inconvenience. The roar of the subway disappeared, and the deathly silence returned.

Stepping in a small stream of dirty water created from an eternally leaking pipe, she took a left at an intersection of the hall. The right path led to the boarding platform of the former station.

There was a single door at the end of the passage. It was in better condition then the one in the tunnel. At least it wasn't covered in rust. It was ajar, but not damaged in any way. Ada pushed it open and stepped into the dim room. It could have been an office in a previous lifetime. A rusting metal desk sat in one corner and bits of trash littered the floor, evidence of the drifters that had snuck into the station through other parts. Part of one of the walls was crumbling away, letting the tiniest bit of light into the room from another source. There he stood.

Dressed in his usual black, little of Albert Wesker stood out in the darkness, other than his pale face and his blond hair. He watched Ada intently as she shut the door behind her back to its ajar position. The room was just as dark as the rest of the place, but of course, he still wore his sunglasses.

Ada wondered what his eyes were really like. She had never seen them in all the time she knew him. All she heard were the rumors. Did they look normal, or were they horrible disfigured in some way? Did the substance he injected himself with give him sight as well as strength and speed? Did the dark room seem bright as day, even behind the black shades? Did they pick up the heat of her body, of the blood pulsing through her vital arteries?

"You sure know how to show a woman the best places in town," she said lightly, strolling towards him. She stifled a smile; Wesker and herself looked too similar. Her own attire was midnight black: black slacks, a black blouse, and a short black cashmere coat.

Wesker uncrossed his arms from his chest. "And you show up on time for once."

"There's nothing wrong with being fashionably late, Wesker," Ada replied, smiling mischievously. "You should try it once in a while."

Wesker held his hand out expectantly. Ada gripped the briefcase a bit, reflecting on what she had said to Crow. Was it a good idea to give it to him? If S got a hold of the parasite, it could be a new Umbrella all over again. Her hesitation lasted only a fraction of a second. What could she do about it now? She brought the case up, depositing the handle on his fingers. Her hand brushed his. Even through the leather of her black designer gloves, his own gloved hand was ice cold.

Instead of opening the briefcase and checking the contents, Wesker simply lowered his arm and let the case hang at his side, his left hand casually in the pocket of his black dress pants.

"Aren't you going to have a look?" Ada asked. She motioned to the darkness with a wave of her hand. "There's no sunlight to damage the parasite."

Wesker tipped his head up slightly. "I don't think that will be necessary. I trust you, don't I?"

_An odd choice of words, especially from him_.

It wouldn't be the first time Wesker had messed with her image of him. Ada prided herself on being able to read and manipulate people based on the patterns they followed, especially Wesker. He was a very habitual person, and very predictable. Except that his words and actions had thrown Ada for a loop this time.

_He's a damn liar. He doesn't trust me at all. But then why the hell does he keep me around? It can't just be because we happen to work for the same organization. Or for my looks. And he already suspected that I might betray him. But he knows that I won't...or can't._

Something was going on behind those black lenses. Ada wildly thought for a minute that this was it; he was going to kill her. Any second, those ice cold hands would snap her neck or crush her skull, and it would be all over in an instant. Her body would rot until it was nothing more than a skeleton, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. What if she had been playing the wrong game the entire time?

The feeling passed in less than a second, but not entirely. Ada still felt a sort of wrongness about the whole situation. She bit the tip of her tongue.

_Just what is your goal, Wesker?_

With nothing to keep her hands occupied, she folded her arms lightly across her stomach. Wesker seemed satisfied, and that was all that mattered at the moment. If he had something planned, there was nothing she could do about it by herself. She would report back to the organization and plan her next move.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that, Wesker," Ada said, smiling again to brush off the feeling that just washed over her. She ran a finger casually through her bangs, pushing them to the side. "Well, now that we're both satisfied, I guess I'll be going. You know how to get in touch." She turned to leave.

"There's been an unusual development, Ada," Wesker said abruptly. She stopped and turned to face him again. "The organization needs your expertise again."

"Oh really?" she asked. "What would that be?"

"The organization hasn't heard from one of it's inner circle members for a while."

"They suspect he's gone rogue?"

"Not yet, but they want you to go and confirm for them. He's had some rather shady dealings in the past, and he's a bit of a loose end." Wesker pulled his hand out of his pocket and procured a small memory chip, like those used in cameras or computers. "Here's some information they are generously supplying you on his whereabouts."

Ada reached out to take it from him, but he quickly pulled his wrist up, away from her grasp. She arched her eyebrow, both in question and in annoyance. Wesker, as well as the rest of the organization, knew that giving her anything that could identify the members was a very dangerous thing.

_Which goes so far to show how much they really trust me, and how much of a threat they think I potentially can be. I'm being watched just as carefully._

"Didn't you just say that you trusted me?" Ada asked.

Wesker gave a small smile, then placed the chip in her hand. "Be a good girl."

His cold fingers left Ada's palm and he brushed past her and out the door. He disappeared into the darkness. Ada squinted at the chip. Dull blue plastic and copper, a total of a gigabyte of memory. It could have been bought at a Radio Shack. She slipped it into her pocket, then turned to leave the forgotten room herself. She wasn't surprised to see that Wesker had already vanished.

Another train passed through the tunnel, once again blinding Ada momentarily. She walked back down the maintenance access hallway. Instead of silence, there was a shriek of metal on metal. Brakes. The train that had passed stopped at the station ahead. No one noticed Ada as she hopped back up to the boarding platform and merged with the people coming from the subway. She walked back up the stairs that led to the tunnels, then to the escalator that ran to the surface.

The chilly fall wind already began to hit her, flushing her cheeks with color as she stepped off the escalator and climbed the last few steps to the street level. It was late in the afternoon. Ada looked down both ways of the sidewalk, then began to walk. After a few blocks, she stopped at a small coffee vendor on the street and bought herself a cup. She dropped in a single pack of sugar and cuplet of cream.

She had only taken a single sip of the hot liquid when her PDA buzzed silently against her hip. It also had a phone built into it, and she was receiving a call.

She pulled the sleek digital device from her coat pocket and looked at the screen. 'Call Unknown'. That meant one of two things. She didn't think Wesker would be calling so soon after just meeting, which meant it had to be someone else from the organization. Ada pressed 'talk' and pressed the PDA to her ear without breaking stride.

"Tyrant's bane?" she asked.

It was a system of code words unique to her. Each of the organization's operatives had their own. Whoever was on the other side would have to respond to her question. It just happened to be a little pun she picked out. If they answered incorrectly, access denied.

"Raccoon's mask," said a cool British voice, stating the correct answer. "Honestly, Miss Wong, can't your woman's intuition sense when I call?"

Ada sighed lightly. "Crow, darling, so nice to hear from you again so soon."

Crow's British accent spoke casually in her ear. "Couldn't we at least drop that ridiculous Q&A and pick something a little more grown up? I'd rather that we sweep that unfortunate incident under the rug."

He sighed audibly over the phone.

"I assume you've met with Wesker?" he continued.

"Yes," replied Ada. Amidst the throngs of moving people, no one one overhear a seemingly innocent conversation over the phone, as long as she didn't drop any words that were too sensitive.

"And?"

"And nothing. The transfer went fine. I can't shake the feeling that he's got something planned, though."

"Yes, none of us can. Don't worry your pretty little head, Miss Wong. We'll keep a close eye on him."

Ada gave an airy chuckle. "Who says I'm worried? Now, is this true about one of the inner circle?"

"Yes," confirmed Crow. "He gave you the data then?"

"Yes, but I haven't had a chance to look at it yet."

"I see. Listen, Miss Wong. It would be in the organization's best interests if this member...remained missing. He has caused more problems than he's fixed."

Ada wrinkled her nose. She hated hits. Killing a person for someone else's gain didn't sit too well with her. When it came to her own benefits, however, all bets were off. It was odd, because she never had a problem with killing before her involvement in Raccoon City.

"That's really not my sort of thing, Crow..." Ada began.

"That doesn't matter," Crow interrupted. "You'll do what this organization requires of you. I trust that we have your cooperation?"

Ada paused, bit her lip, then stared hard at the back of the person walking in front of her.

"Yes, of course."

"Good. Contact Wesker when you have an update. You're to report to him for this assignment."

Crow hung up. There was no dial tone after the call; her PDA simply cut. The device didn't even bother logging the call. It would just be one more security risk, not matter how small. Ada dropped it back into her pocket, then took another drink of her coffee.

_Pain in the ass._

She drained the rest of her cup and tossed it in the nearest trash can, which was already brimming with various bits of waste. Some of it was even beginning to pool around it's base. Ada took a few steps into a side alley and leaned against the brick wall of the building sharing it. Her black gloved hand fished out the memory chip from the pocket of her slacks and slid it into the port in her PDA. After she browsed through several menus, she found the desired information.

_Well, at least this will be convenient. He's already supposed to be in New York._

Ada tapped on the screen using the stylus, and scrolled through a few of the files. She had a rough appearance, an age, as well as his home address. It was an apartment on the east side of the city. The only problem was that his description matched about a thousand people in New York alone. She supposed she would get more information little by little as it was needed. For this house call, all she needed was an address.

Her eyes darted to the corner of the PDA's screen, to the time being displayed. It was 4:37. It would be better to wait until the sun went down. If he was in the city, she would have a better chance to catch him off guard after dark.

Ada switched off her PDA, then rejoined the stream of people on the sidewalk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Getting into the apartment complex was easy. All Ada had to do was wait for someone to open the foyer door for her. It might have been late, but New York lived up to its name as the city that never slept. There was always someone going out for the graveyard shift, or coming in from the second shift. Ada had been set to use her woman's charm and her "I lost my key" story, but the middle aged man that had just entered hardly even acknowledged her as he opened the door. She slipped in through the door behind him before it locked shut again.

The foyer was a prelude to the building's grandeur. Unlike common apartment entrances, which usually consisted of a short hallway and a row of mailboxes, this complex had a spacious, elegantly decorated lobby. To Ada, it looked more like a five star hotel than an apartment. There was an oriental rug and several plush couches and chairs. Almost one entire wall was comprised of the building's mailboxes. Dotting various corners and tables were real potted plants, and Ada didn't even have to look closely at the walls to notice the perfect wallpaper. At the far end were three elevators, and a hallway that went right and left, the length of the building.

Once past the foyer, Ada turned left down the hall and began to look for the building's stairs. The man that she entered with called one of the elevators. Elevators had cameras, and Ada had to be careful where she was seen. The stairs would probably have cameras as well, but she would have a better chance of remaining unrecognizable while constantly moving than standing still in an elevator. The only problem was that the organization's missing member's room was on the 18th floor.

She found the stairs. They went up and down, presumably to the parking garage underneath. Ada began to climb, being careful to spot the cameras using only her eyes and keeping her head cast slightly down.

_Well, I guess I can consider this a perk. _Ada panted lightly as she rounded the 15th floor. A cool glaze of sweat had began to bead on her forehead somewhere on the 9th floor. _I don't have to waste time at the gym on a treadmill anymore._

Her cashmere coat had been a good idea outside in the chilly autumn air, but inside, after working on a staircase for a few minutes, it was quickly becoming and inconvenience. Her whole body felt hot. Ada hadn't even bothered to take her gloves off. Underneath her coat, her blouse felt sticky with sweat at various parts of her body.

Ada finally reached the 18th floor and stepped out of the stairwell, letting the door shut behind her. A brief swipe of her arm across her forehead transferred the sweat from her skin to her coat. She composed herself, moved her bangs back into place, then began to walk down the hall. The only sounds were the soles of her leather boots squishing on the thick expensive carpet.

A door in the middle of the hallway was Ada's target: room 1821. A brief check of her PDA confirmed that it was indeed the residence of her target.

Ada ran her tongue over the edge of her teeth, thinking how she should handle the situation. Crow said the organization wanted him dead. Going in guns blazing would be stupid. She was armed, but she didn't have a suppressor for her gun. The whole apartment complex would wake up. She had to use finesse.

But what could she do to explain her presence? She could take on the presence as a new neighbor coming to visit, but the member would know his own apartment floor like a normal person. What about something a little bolder? Perhaps an expensive call girl hired by a co-worker?

_Heh, I don't think so. He's probably not even here. If I was going to stab the organization in the back, I wouldn't hang around at my house where I know they could find me._

Which was fine. If he wasn't there, she would just do some snooping; try to find a few clues to his whereabouts, then leave.

Ada raised her hand, the sound of leather creaking as her hand balled and index finger extended, then pushed the doorbell to room 1821 firmly. She heard a buzz from within the room, then nothing. A minute passed, then two. Ada pressed the doorbell again, this time holding it for a few seconds longer, then waited. Still, only silence.

_Well, he's definitely not here._

Ada looked up the hall, then back the way she came, making sure that it was still empty. She squatted down, reaching into her pocket and taking out a set of lock picks. She carried them with her wherever she went.

_You never know when something like this comes in handy. In this case, a little breaking and entering._

Ada was no expert, but she knew a few things about opening doors. The quiet hallway was an ideal setting for listening to the pins move. Every so often, she had to break her concentration and steal a glance down the hall to make sure no one was coming.

After a few minutes of delicate work, the lock opened, revealing a sliver of black in the frame of the door. Ada closed her tool, then quickly slipped through the open door and gently shut it behind her.

The apartment was dark. The other end of the room was a large window. The curtains weren't pulled across, giving a magnificent view of the large glowing skyscrapers of New York. What little light was coming through the window was just enough to see the room's features.

The apartment was huge, the living room alone far bigger than any hotel room Ada had stayed at. The floor dropped a step down closer to the center of the room. Ada could just barely make out several sofas and chairs, clustered around a large coffee table. One wall consisted of an entertainment system with a large plasma TV, speakers, and the works. Although she couldn't make out the walls very well, Ada saw that they were spotted with various bits of artwork. There was what could have been a Turkish rug, as well as a small statue in the corner that gave her the creeps. It looked humanoid, crossed with some type of animal. The creatures that the organization collected and produced from Umbrella research briefly crossed her mind.

The living room continued through a small doorway in the corner of the room near the window. Carefully, moving without sound, Ada crossed the room, being extra careful to not trip or knock anything over. Once she made it to the doorway, a small gasp escaped her lips.

The adjoining part of the living room held a full sized bar. There was a cluster of stools along and a small table with two smaller chairs at it. The bottles lined on the shelves behind the bar glinted the tiniest bit in the sparse light coming from the massive window that still consumed one wall. None of these things, however, is what sparked Ada's reaction.

There was a body lying on the floor.

Silently and quickly, like a shadow, the black clad Asian woman melted to her knees. There was a whisper of metal on leather, then a gun in her hand, taken from the concealed holster on her leg; a Beretta PX4. Ada spun on the balls of her feet, pointing the gun at the way she came. There was nothing but shadows.

_I'd be dead already if there was a shooter here. Quit being so jumpy._

She mentally reprimanded herself for being so careless in her entry. Nonetheless, Ada kept her gun out; it was better to be safe than sorry. She kept crouched and moved to the body. It was male. Up close, she could just make out five dark spots on his chest. Gunshot wounds.

Ada pressed her fingers against the throat, but not to feel for a pulse. Whoever it was was definitely dead. The skin felt cool and stiff, and when she touched her fingers to her neck, the leather of her gloves was ice. The man had been dead for quite a while, but not long enough to start decomposing.

The Beretta went back to it's concealed location on Ada's leg. She pulled out her PDA, then flipped it on, being careful not to stare directly at it as the screen flashed brightly. Trying to direct the screen towards the face of the corpse, she called up the data on the member.

_Middle aged, so probably between 45 and 55 years old. Tall, with brown, graying hair. Brown eyes._

Ada looked hard at the face. The digital light being cast on it mangled some of the features, but they were still recognizable. It was lined, but not too heavily. He had a stocky build, probably played sports at one time or another. His lightly tousled hair was well on it's way to salt and pepper. He was wearing brown dress pants and a dark collared shirt. One of the entry wounds put a hole right through the tie he was wearing. His eyes were open, staring glassily past Ada, dark brown in color.

"Shit," Ada hissed, just barely a whisper. It was him.

Someone had beaten her to him, and by quite a while it seemed. The body was cold, which meant he had only been dead for a few days at most. The body hadn't been discovered yet, otherwise Ada would be cutting through police tape.

_Which means that no one heard the shots. Whoever killed this guy was using a silencer. The boys in blue haven't been here yet, either. I have to be careful what I touch. I can't leave any evidence of myself._

The body was laying sprawled along the carpet, which was a light cream color. No blood had stained it around the body. Whatever he was shot with must have been some type of hollow point round, designed to enter the body, then blossom and maximize internal damage. The only blood on him was from the entry wounds, which had long since gelled and dried. There weren't even any spent shell casings. They had been collected after the shooting.

_This isn't good. He was shot completely off guard in his own home. The door wasn't forced open or broken down. Whoever it was either snuck into the apartment, or was let in._

Ada was liking the situation less and less. She wanted to get out of the apartment as soon as possible. Before that though, she would do a quick sweep and look for anything suspicious or interesting. She wasn't about to let Crow ream her out for being careless, and she was a little curious if she could find some information about the organization.

_A little collateral never hurt anyone._

Still not taking the risk of turning any lights on, Ada crept around the apartment, looking for any obvious clues or evidence of who might have killed the inner circle member. Now she was glad that she hadn't taken her gloves off; she'd rather not have her fingerprints plastered everywhere in the apartment.

There was nothing in the living room, nothing in the bathroom, and nothing in the bedroom. In the study, Ada mercifully allowed herself to turn the desk lamp on as she quietly paged through folders and searched drawers. All of the information was garbage, merely documents on various fronts the organization had. Some were insurance papers, others were bank statements, still others were just useless bits of false information.

After gleaning over the apartment, Ada returned to the dead body. She felt through the pockets of the man, but only procured a wallet. The driver's license gave the name Brett Smith. Ada wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't his name. She herself used more aliases than she could remember; every other day, she was someone new. Inside the wallet was some cash and various credit cards. She placed it back on Smith's corpse.

As Ada rose to her feet, she spotted something of interest on the small table in the room: two wineglasses. There was no bottle with them. In fact, they were completely dry and clean, as if they were just set out.

_So Mr. Smith decided to pour a drink for himself and someone else...The killer, perhaps? His is the only body here, so that must be it. As he turned to get the liquor from the bar, he was shot._

The room gave nothing else. Ada turned and went back to the door, carefully opening it and peering out into the hall. It was still empty. She made sure the door was locked and shut it behind her. Quickly, she sped back down the 18 flights of stairs that led to the ground floor, and before she was even outside, her PDA was in her hand, paging Wesker.

The organization's operatives weren't given the contact numbers of any of the higher ups. Instead, they had to page them and wait for them to call back. With Wesker, it could be days before he bothered to return her call. Other times, it would be a matter of minutes. That was one of his characteristics that Ada had never figured out.

Ada's PDA was silent for a minute. She took the opportunity to find an empty alley. Standing behind an overflowing dumpster, she waited for Wesker to call. She would give him 15 minutes, no more, no less. If Wesker didn't call within that time, she would try Crow. Screw what he said about reporting to Wesker. This turn of events was big.

The dumpster Ada was tucked behind emitted a horrible smell. At least it shielded her partly from the cool wind blowing. The sweat from her walk down the stairs was quickly becoming chilled on her skin.

The PDA purred in her hand, and Ada opened the communicator, holding the device at arms length. Wesker's face appeared on the screen. He looked as he always did. Most people might have been sleeping at this time. Ada briefly wondered if he even needed to sleep anymore.

"What is it?" he asked.

Ada stared hard at his image.

"We have a problem..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The white sheet fell off of Ada's bare shoulder as she turned over in her sleep. She was getting the first decent night's sleep after Spain, having been running on caffeine and power naps since. As soon as she got back to her hotel, she crawled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Last nights clothing lay piled at the foot of the bed, her coat thrown lazily over a chair in the corner.

Ada smiled in her sleep. She wasn't prone to having many dreams, but the stress of the last few days had taken it's toll on her mind. Now, she lay curled up in bed, very much liking what was happening. Her arm stretched up teasingly to her ear, and she kicked softly under the sheets, her movements vaguely miming the scene behind her closed eyes.

Ada rolled over again, this time onto her stomach. The smile still plastered on her face, her right arm reached over and lightly gripped the edge of the Italian mattress. The tips of her fingers caressed the side, feeling something other than the soft cloth and stiff edge of the the mattress pad.

-_the side of his arm-_

Her hand slowly crept down the side of the mattress, and a sharp intake of breath shot through her lips; a small gasp of surprise and pleasure. Leaving the edge of the mattress, her hand gently slid across the top of it. Her index finger played along the diamond-like designs of the pad beneath it.

_-his chest-_

Ada's pulse quickened, and a bit of color flowed into her cheeks. Her hand returned to the edge of the mattress. Her arm flexed, as if she was drawing herself closer. She giggled to herself, then inhaled sharply.

Whether it was some innate reflex, or if she sensed something amiss, Ada abruptly woke from her dream. Her eyes flashed open, quickly trying to grow accustomed to the light filtering through the drawn blinds. Ada quickly rolled to her back and sat straight up in bed, the sheet and thick comforter pooling at her waist. Her eyes darted first to the left, then to right. Why did she feel so uncomfortably warm? Something was wrong...

Ada's eyes scanned the room again, searching for anything out of place. The dresser, the wardrobe, the large plasma TV, everything was in order. Had she left the door that far ajar when she entered the room? Yes, it was just as she left it, as was the bathroom door.

The dream flashed through Ada's mind. She swallowed hard, then gripped her messed bangs tightly. Not knowing what else to do, she smeared them against the side of her temple. In an instant, what felt like every blood vessel in her face erupted, turning her already tinted cheeks crimson. It was stupid, blushing when no one was around.

_God, no _way_ did that just happen._

Ada let out a shuddering breath. Her heart rate was still erratic. She shook her head, as if to dismiss her body's reaction, then tried to rub the grit from the corner of her eyes. Her entire face felt like a single hot ember. She tried to cool one cheek using her palm, but quickly discovered that her hands were just as hot, as well as sweating. She left it on her cheek anyway, the tips of her perfect nails just burrowing into her black hair.

_Was I talking in my sleep? God...what if the organization has me tapped?_

That would be the final irony. Ada already guessed that the organization would be keeping a close eye on her. She was just a little too secretive for them to be comfortable. If there was even a hint that she was remotely involved or interested with him... But her panic soon ceased.

_No, I know yourself better than that. I don't talk in my sleep. In fact, this never happens. It's just stress. Yeah, stress. The mission in Spain, and now the fact that the whole organization is on edge because of this death. Just need to settle down...calm and collected._

Ada felt better when she had begun to rationalize things. Her pounding heart finally decided to settle down, though her face was still scarlet. She stayed in her propped up position, cleaning the last bit of grime from her bleary eyes, then looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was already past ten in the morning. She sighed irritably; she had forgot to set her alarm, and she hated sleeping in.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, Ada was herself. Her face returned to it's normal color, and she let herself fall back onto her bed. She was just contemplating forgetting her normal routine and going back to sleep when a loud knock sounded from the door. Her ears perked up, and her hand darted underneath one of her pillows, procuring her Beretta. She wasn't expecting company.

Ada slid out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet of the room. She snatched her robe from a hook on the wall and hastily threw the short silken garment on. It fell to just the middle of her thighs. She didn't bother closing it. It was just one of the advantages of being a voluptuous woman: sometimes, the split second it took for a man's eyes to wander was the difference between life and death.

Ada made her way out of the bedroom and into the living room, her feet switching between the sensations of warm and cool as they moved from carpet to hardwood, then back again. She was camped out in an executive suite of the Mandarin Oriental, one of New Yorks many five-star hotels. It was more of a luxurious apartment than a simple hotel room, although it still didn't hold a candle to the deceased organization member's pad.

Cocking the hammer back on her gun, Ada peered through the eye hole. The distorted convex image showed a man; one of the room service staff. Ada undid the series of latches, then put the gun behind her back, opening the door as she did. She concealed her right side partway behind the heavy oaken panel.

"How nice to- oh!" Ada started, then forced a look of embarrassment on her face. Her free left hand hastily, with feigned clumsiness, began to hold her robe shut, deliberately failing the task. "Excuse me, I was expecting someone else."

She was playing the role of the woman who just woken up and hurried to answer the door without even bothering to close her robe or even check the eye hole. Perhaps she was expecting her boyfriend or husband?

The calculating agent stood within her, finger on the trigger of the concealed gun pressed to the small of her back. If this guy so much as blinked suspiciously, he would get two in the head. Ada didn't want to have to resort to that. If she could subdue him quietly, she wouldn't have to then flee the scene due the resulting gunfire.

The man was visibly taken aback when he saw the mostly exposed form of Ada Wong standing in her underwear. His eyes looked first to her morning washed face, then darted lower, then lower still. They shot back up, stopping first at the bandages still wrapped around her thigh, where, with apparent embarrassment, they locked on her face. If he was anything but an employee, he was a better actor than she was.

"Miss, uh, Davis?" he inquired. Her alias. He spoke in a linear, composed way, as if he was trying to stay on topic. "There was a note dropped off for you this morning. There were instructions to give it to you immediately." The employee raised the envelope that he was fiddling with when he was talking and awkwardly thrust it towards her. "So, uh, here it is..."

Ada took the envelope in her left hand, then gave it a quick once over. It was unmarked; completely blank.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, still giving him her faux sleepy shyness. She shut the door abruptly, not feeling the desire to hone her charm on the employee any further.

After re-locking the door, Ada released the hammer on her gun gently and sighed, dropping her act. She tossed the envelope on the marble table top of the coffee table in the living room. She set her gun next to it, then closed her robe and collapsed into the thick sofa, rubbing her temples lightly with the tips of her fingers. Now that that distraction had been taken care of, her mind wandered once again to the dream.

As with many dreams, bits of it had already faded, lost in the brief interaction with the hotel staff. The majority of it was still there, though. Those were the worst parts, the parts that had been the most vibrant and vivid in her mind. Ada was certain she was past this type of thing; these dreams were for brainless, amorous school girls who didn't know better.

So how had Leon Kennedy managed to infiltrate her dreams?

Ada sighed again, a little frustrated at what she felt was weakness. She hated to think that she had succumbed to such a thing. Plus, there was the organization. Leon and the US government was their enemy, and after the events in Spain, probably their biggest one now. Which, of course, made him her opposition as well.

_But it doesn't feel right. I don't know why it doesn't, but it doesn't. Ugh, I should have just shot him in Raccoon when I had the chance._

"_Do you really feel that way?_" asked a small voice in her head.

One part of Ada's mind was still arguing with her. There was only one reason she hadn't killed Leon: he was so goddamn _nice_. In the middle of a monster infested city, he was willing to go out of his way to keep an eye on her, and she hated killing innocent people.

At the same time, he was managing to be the biggest obstacle in her mission. With him constantly hanging around, she couldn't work freely to secure the G-virus. He'd been a total pain in the ass.

_And yet, when I got clawed by Birkin, he was there to help me. Of course, if he hadn't been slowing me down, I probably wouldn't have gotten injured in the first place._

"_You were lucky to drag yourself out of that filthy sewer with your life,_" spoke yet another small voice in Ada's head. "_All because of him, you've got a metal plate in your shoulder and a dozen new scars. At least you didn't botch the mission in Spain because of him._"

The constant, self-created bickering made Ada groan audibly. She didn't know what she wanted.

_I need to call Crow, ask for a vacation-_

-something he would never agree to, of course. Instead, with great effort, Ada sat with her eyes closed, still with her fingertips at her temples, and cleared her mind. First things first: she needed a shower, and a long one at that

She got up and took her gun with her to the bathroom, then ran the water to her shower, extra hot.

As the water ran across her bare form, Ada relaxed, even chuckled at her earlier behavior. Stress indeed. She felt fine now; alert, calm, and natural. She was just taken by surprise. With a flip of her hand, she tossed her soaked bangs up and out of her eyes, letting the water massage her chin and neck.

Although she had no way to prove it, Ada guessed that things were quickly becoming very disorganized within the organization. Her target had been found already dead. The way and fashion he had been found suggested that it was a professional hit.

Ada didn't think that Crow was the type to panic, and Wesker certainly wasn't either. When she broke the news to him, he didn't even break face. Despite the fact that the man never showed any emotion anyways, Ada wondered if he had a hand in this death. She knew he was planning something, and knocking off members of the organization was a definite possibility.

How the rest of the organization would fare was beyond Ada. She wasn't sure if they would suspect Wesker any more than they did already. There were just too many unknown variables, something that Ada detested greatly.

By the time Ada realized she'd been standing in the shower for over 20 minutes, she remembered the envelope the hotel employee dropped off. She finished rinsing herself, then toweled off, slipping into fresh underwear and her robe again.

Once again she let herself fall into the thick couch in the living room, then picked up the envelope from the coffee table. Ada looked at it again, but it still remained unmarked. She broke the seal and opened it. Inside of it was a folded piece of paper. It was a note, typed from a simple word processor:

**Wong,**

**I would like to meet with you. We need to talk concerning recent events. Meet me at the cafe ten blocks south of your hotel. Noon sharp.**

The note wasn't signed. Judging from the fact that whoever delivered it knew where she was staying and her alias, it had to be someone from within the organization. Who though?

_If it were Wesker or Crow, they would call. Another one of the inner circle?_

Ada checked the clock in the room. It was now a quarter past eleven. If she booked it, she could make it on time. This way, she could kill two birds with one stone: she really wanted a cup of coffee.

She torched the note with a lighter over a trash can; she didn't want any evidence of her involvement in case this meeting was behind the organization's back. Wesker hadn't told her that she would be contacted by anyone else.

Ada dressed, putting on a pair of jeans and a deep red halterneck. She grabbed her holster and strapped it to her ankle, beneath her jeans, then placed her Beretta in it. She grabbed her PDA and coat then left, not sure what to expect from this meeting, but calmly prepared for anything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

A small bell tinkled, whether electronic or natural was unknown to Ada, as as pushed open the door. A young college girl dressed casually with a name tag clipped to her shirt greeted her pleasantly. Ada smiled back, then began to scout the room. The cafe had general seating, so Ada was allowed to seat herself. It was 11:59. She was right on time.

The cafe wasn't packed, but it wasn't deserted either. It was even during the lunch rush, and it still wasn't full. Tables were clustered throughout the majority of the room, with booths along the wall. A partial wall towards the back obscured most of the kitchen from public view. The front of the restaurant was a single glass window, giving view to the street and sidewalk outside, with a desk and counter next to the door. Several men and women were moving between the booths and tables, taking orders, setting tables, and busing others. All in all, it was an ordinary restaurant.

_Which makes it perfect for a meeting. Even if this is some kind of trap or setup, they wouldn't dare to try anything in public._

The tables and booths that were occupied held a variety of people. Ada had no idea what the person she was seeking looked like, but thought that it would be fairly obvious.

Ada slowly began to walk through the table seating, unbuttoning the large buttons of her coat and checking out the people. Couple, couple, group of college girls, group of college boys _and _girls, flirting couple, single woman, single man-

The man struck Ada as the one. He seemed fairly business-like, and was even wearing a brown suit. The only other possibility was the single woman, who was also wearing some type of business-type blazer, and had a briefcase sitting near her legs. Unlike the man, however, she was reading a magazine. The man was simply _waiting_, with a cup of some beverage in front of him. No one just waited for a meal, rather, they would bring something to keep themselves occupied, like the woman.

Ada also noted his position. His table formed the focus of the semi-circle of young adults around him. Out of earshot if voices were kept low, and background noise would eliminate any other risks. His eyes drifted casually to hers where they stayed, definitely not a casual look given to a stranger.

_Yep, that's him._

Ada changed course and approached his table, gave a quick glance to the chatting people around her, then sat down across from him, leaving her coat on. He looked mid-forties, his brown hair matching his suit, and clean shaven.

_Be sweet and charming. Let him think he's in control and find out what he wants._

"Thank you for coming, Wong," he said, sounding sincere, yet not bothering to address her formally.

"How could I neglect a call from the organization?" Ada questioned lightly. "So, what is it you wanted to discuss Mr...?"

"Call me Grant," he said.

Ada wondered if there was anyone in the organization who had any fun in picking an alias. First Smith, then Grant.

A waitress approached the table, digging a notepad out of the smock she wore. Like the girl at the door, she greeted Ada politely.

"Can I get anything for you, ma'am?" she asked, clicking a ball point pen habitually.

"Just a coffee, cream and sugar," Ada replied.

The waitress thanked her and jotted the order down, then departed, leaving the two alone again.

"I wanted to talk about the recent, uh, problem we've encountered." Grant said. He looked directly at Ada. "We're all quite troubled by this."

Ada laughed lightly. "None of you are surprised that one of you suddenly dropped over? I'm not too surprised, what with all the enemies we have. I thought you men knew what you were doing when you signed your contract."

So much for being sweet and charming. Her reply was a little more sassy than she intended it to be. Ada was actually a little taken aback by Grant's statement. The organization held more power than a small nation. If they were indeed unsettled by Smith's death, then it had to be something big.

Grant's clean features remained stoic. "Rest assured, Wong, we know exactly how to handle our work. But it becomes increasingly difficult to do your work when someone is trying to kill you."

"I can relate," Ada said coolly.

"Secrecy is one of our greatest defenses," Grant said abruptly. "We keep our operatives in the dark for a reason. It's the best way to prevent leaks. There were a total of seven, _seven _people who knew Smith's real identity and what he did. You know three of them."

Wesker, Crow, and now Grant, Ada supposed. Members of the inner circle.

"Which means that if someone killed Smith because of his involvement in the organization, then this originates from within the organization itself," Grant concluded. "You saw it yourself. It isn't like his death was an accident. Shot five times in the chest, you said?"

Ada already saw where he was getting well before he made his conclusion.

"You think Wesker's behind this." It wasn't a question.

Grant nodded. "The only reason we let him have the sample is because Smith fell off the grid just before the Spain operation. That's when we think that he was killed. We may have lost one of our most important members, and we didn't want to risk alerting Wesker by not giving him the sample."

The waitress returned with Ada's coffee, just as the word "sample" fell from Grant's mouth. He fell silent and Ada thanked the girl for the mug, who departed once again.

"It would appear that giving it to him was a mistake," Grant continued.

"Hmmm..." Ada thought out loud. "You think he's already contacted S, and now he's working with them to eliminate competition?"

"I can see why the organization has yet to give you it's full trust, even after 6 years," Grant said through narrow eyes. "A smart one like you is exactly what gives us problems..."

"So what exactly are you going to do about it?" Ada asked, ignoring his look, then taking a sip of her coffee.

Grant leaned back in his chair. "Wesker's smart, he probably knows that we suspect him, but not to what extent. It's more than likely that we're dealing with a single hired assassin. He's not stupid enough to risk doing it himself. He's trying to do as much damage without getting his hands bloody. If he does anything more, he will only be casting more suspicion on himself."

_So, eliminate the problem and Wesker will have to show his hand._

"But," Grant continued with a bitter smile. "Even a rat knows to desert a sinking ship." He leaned forward again, staring at Ada very carefully. "If Wesker knows as much as he does, then the organization is finished. We have no leads to the assassin, or any proof that Wesker is even involved. If they could kill Smith, then they know who we are. I'd rather not loose my life if I could avoid it. That's why I've decided to do business elsewhere."

Ada laughed. "You're leaving the organization? You know that I have grounds to kill you right now just for saying that?"

"More than aware," Grant replied, undeterred by her threat. "And I'm sure that you are armed. But I'm sure you wouldn't want to risk exposing yourself here just to kill me, and I certainly don't want to be your enemy. I'd much rather have you join me. You're a very popular woman, and I'm sure my new employers would have a great use for your talents."

_So that's why he picked a public spot. He can't do anything to me, and I can't to jack to him either. He's pretty clever...but still stupid. If he thinks he can tempt me into this and get away with it, his head is further up his ass than I thought._

"Sorry," Ada said sweetly. "I've got my own business to take care of in the organization."

Grant sighed. "Very well then. Disappointing, but I can't force you now can I?" He pulled a few bills from his pocket, along with a cell phone. "At the very least I can pick up your tab." He punched a a number on the phone, then pressed it to his ear. "We're finished."

Ada took another drink of her coffee as he finished his brief phone conversation. Through the front window of the cafe, she saw a black limousine pull onto the side of the street. Grant got up, buttoning his suit coat as he did, then tossed the money on the table. It was more than enough to cover her drink.

"Good-bye, Ada Wong. It was a nice chat, but I have to leave. I'm afraid we won't meet in the future." With that, he simply left.

Ada scoffed into coffee as he passed by her. It royally pissed her that she couldn't drop his coward ass right there. Well, she _could,_ but not without ending up in prison, and she wasn't about to give up her freedom for one man. She'd take a verbal spanking from Crow, but in the end, the organization would find Grant. If she was lucky, Crow might let her track him down herself, and she'd make him eat those words as well as a bullet.

Outside, Grant climb into his limo. The driver began to pull the long black car slowly into traffic. Ada took another drink.

_I should call Crow and see if-_

- the front window of the cafe exploded inward with a deadly rain of crystal as a thunderous concussive blast erupted outside. The coffee mug flew from Ada's hand, and she raised her arms instinctively, covering her face. She was flung from her chair and onto the ground, hard. Something landed on top of her, either the table or her chair, then rolled off of her.

A wave of heat washed over Ada almost instantly, hitting her like a solid wall. The air turned acrid and bits of hot rubble showered her. There was a barrage of loud crashes, and she vaguely recalled hearing screaming, but only in one ear.

The chaotic destruction was over as fast as it had started. Ada's head was swimming. Colors were blending together, sounds weren't making sense. Slowly, lines began to form around objects, and things began to clear. She was distinctly aware of the high pitched ringing in her left ear. Pieces of hot rubble dotted her face and body, which she hazily brushed off before they could sear her. Something heavy was lying on half on top of her. Ada pushed it off with some effort. It was a shapeless piece of debris, a mix of metal and plaster.

Ada propped herself up, letting out a soft gasp of pain. Her right shoulder was aching from when she landed on it. There was a hot sensation on her left forearm. She looked and saw that the sleeve of her coat had caught fire from the burning debris strewn about. The flames were beginning to crawl up her arm with frightening speed. Quickly, as fast as her aching body would allow, she stripped the garment off before the rest of her went up in flames. Concrete, wood, and metal pattered to the ground as it rained from the sky and fell from the crumbling surroundings.

Outside, what was left of Grant's limo was strewn about the street in flaming hunks-

-_must of been a hell of a lot of C4, some kind of detpack-_

Ada struggled to get to her feet. The cafe's occupants were lucky. They were all in the same condition: shell-shocked, but alive. Pushing the confused, hurt cries of the once gossiping students out of her head, she staggered to the front of the cafe, which was now completely gone. As she stepped, she gasped again. A rip in the side of her halterneck stained the red fabric a deeper shade; a shallow cut from some flying object.

The explosion had caused a pile up on the street. Numerous alarms and horns were wailing, adding to the pain in Ada's already throbbing head. She scanned the street, feeling a little confused and unsure. The sirens of the emergency units were drawing closer.

A flaming car down the street erupted in another explosion sending more metal and glass into the road; the fuel tank had caught fire and exploded. All around, people were lying either injured or dead. Ada didn't have to guess the reason of the explosion. This was no accident. Cars didn't just vaporize from a fender bender. Grant had been eliminated, just like Smith was. It had to be the work of the assassin that now may or may not be working for Wesker.

_At least I won't have to worry about going after Grant, he's already dead._

A flash of movement caught Ada's eye. Of course, there was movement all around, panicked, chaotic movement. But this was different. It was controlled and calm. It was a person in a black coat at the far end of the street, well outside the range of the blast radius, walking away calmly. Too calmly. Ada's eyes were still a little blurry, unable to see a face. She took a few steps in the direction of the figure, then staggered. Shaking her head, she managed to regain enough focus to begin pursuit.

The figure turned the corner, Ada following distantly. She had to weave in between the throngs of nearby people crowding to see the accident. Every so often, she would be thrown off balance from jostling into an onlooker. As she walked, she tried to wipe some of the grime from her face, praying that no one would play the good Samaritan and ask if she was alright. She looked like hell, cut up and every inch of her stained with dirt and ash. The last thing she needed was a commotion that would attract her target's attention.

Eventually the crowd thinned out. Ada had a clear view of the figure. To Ada's surprise, it was a woman. She was indeed wearing a coat, a short black leather one. She had deep red hair, pulled into a tight ponytail. As the crowd grew sparse, her head turned to the side and Ada caught a brief glimpse of a dark eye locking onto her.

_Shit!_

In a flash, the woman darted into a nearby ally. Ada bolted after her, now barely feeling the effects of the explosion. With a surge of adrenaline, she was herself again. The woman was already halfway down the ally, splashing through a shallow puddle of filth. The alley turned again, and as Ada rounded the corner, the woman hopped down from a chain link fence blocking the way.

Ada launched herself on the links of the fence and pulled herself up and over with liquid grace, landing smoothly on the dirty concrete on the other side, then resumed her chase. The alley turned once more.

Several quiet popping noises sounded and the bricks on the side of the building near Ada shattered. She rolled to the right, her shoulder protesting in pain, then bladed herself against a dumpster. A few metallic pangs resonated through the metal as the woman fired her silenced weapon, followed by a smaller metallic sound of spent casing's clattering to the ground.

Ada wrenched the right cuff of her jeans up and pulled her Beretta free. As soon as the gunfire stop, she leaned out with the gun trained where the woman was. She had vanished. Keeping her gun level, Ada quickly rounded the next corner. It led back to the street.

She stuck her gun behind her back before anyone noticed, then turned and quickly replaced it in her holster, flipping the cuff of her jeans over it. She jogged into the crowd of moving people on the sidewalk, looking for the assassin's black coat. Ada looked up and down the walk, but didn't see the woman anywhere, not even across the street.

A few people jostled her as they went about their way. It amazed Ada that they were oblivious to the explosion that occurred a few blocks away. She picked a direction and began to weave through the people. After a few seconds, Ada gave up. At the pace she was moving, surrounded by this many people, she had no chance of catching up with the assassin, let alone eliminating her without drawing attention to herself.

"Shit," Ada swore again, this time through her teeth, giving one final glance up and down the street. She sighed, suddenly feeling strangely old and very tired.

_Must be the adrenaline wearing off._

Almost swooning, Ada stumbled back into the alley. She collapsed next to a wall, letting her head tip back against the cold brick. The aches and pains kicked back into awareness. Her shoulder throbbed from when she landed on it in the explosion and when she rolled to avoid the gunfire. The cut on her torso stung and hadn't stopped bleeding.

With one hand pressed to the cut still spreading blood on her top, Ada dug into her pocket with the other, pulling out her PDA. Miraculously, it had been in the pocket on the side of her she hadn't fell on. She cycled through the commands and found the one she wanted: Wesker's page.

Knowing Wesker more than anyone else, Ada was sure that he was behind this attack on the organization. It didn't fit his style, but that didn't mean much. The only reason she was calling him was to get to Crow. Right now, she had to play dumb, pretend that she had no idea what could be going on. The only problem was if Wesker was going to believe her.

She activated the page, then set the device in her lap. Her hand left her cut, stained with blood. She wiped it on her dirty jeans, then gasped as a sharp pain lanced through her right shoulder again. It was her "bad" one. It didn't hurt or impede her in anyway, but Ada always felt different about it. Probably due to the months of surgical reconstruction and therapy.

It was that in the underground Raccoon lab that Annette Birkin scored a lucky shot. The bullet passed through her shoulder, shattering her scapula and nearly taking the edge of the humerus with it. The pain had been incredible. Normally, it would have been a thousand years before someone like Annette could have gotten the drop on her. The reason Ada left herself open was because of Leon. The seconds had been ticking away, the self-destruct already counting down. Leon had the G-virus.

Despite her resolve to complete her mission, Ada found her hand trembling as she tried to load her weapon with her last magazine. All she could think of was how Leon was going to react when she showed her true colors. Her eyes grew watery, and suddenly growing both angry and confused, she pitched her last magazine down the laboratory hall, then stormed off to confront him. She couldn't bring herself to hurt him, but she could probably scare him into give her the virus.

Her new plan failed. Leon had been a stone wall. Frustrated at her stupidity for not having a loaded weapon, frustrated from the feelings she shouldn't be having, and above all frustrated at the guilt that washed over her, Ada lowered her gun. Then the shot rang out.

The PDA buzzed in Ada's lap, jerking her from her memories. Wesker was calling back. She raised the device so the built in camera faced her, but hesitated briefly before switching it on. Wesker appeared from the waist up. His blank expression paused before speaking.

"You seem a bit...disheveled, Ada," Wesker said lightly. Ada swore he was mocking her. "Did something happen?"

Ada squeezed a few more ounces of fatigue into herself, making her look more beaten than she really was. Her voice was saturated with weariness, and her eyes displayed a sense of helplessness.

"It's just as we thought. Someone's taking out the organization."

"And you know this how?"

"Grant...called me. We met and...and someone rigged his car with explosives... Lot of it, too. I saw it go up."

Wesker's features remained blank behind his sunglasses, of course.

"Why did Grant contact you?"

"He said he wanted to talk about what was going on...about Smith's death," Ad said tiredly. "He said he was leaving the organization, because they're backed into a corner," she added. If she could convince Wesker that the organization was clueless, she'd have an easier time working behind his back.

"Was there anyone suspicious at the scene? Did you see the assassin?" Wesker's voice hinted just the slightest amount of anxiety.

Ada hesitated, then spoke. "Yes, but they got away before I could get a look at their face. They took a couple shots at me. A silenced gun, and with that much explosive material, it's gotta be a professional."

There was no point in lying. The assassin would be sure to report to Wesker. Ada needed to keep as much suspicion off of herself as possible.

"And you're alright?"

Ada genuinely grinned. "I didn't know you worried about me, Wesker. But I'm fine, thanks. Just a little shaken up."

"Good. I'll report this to the rest of the organization. I think it's best that you leave New York and relocate for the time being."

Wesker cut the connection. Ada dropped her act and stuffed the PDA back into her pocket. She got to her feet, wincing at the pain coursing through her body. Once back out in the crowds of people on the sidewalk, she noticed a few peculiar stares coming from several people. Why they were noticing her beaten state now instead of 15 minutes ago was beyond her. Still, none of them asked if she needed help.

The Asian woman began her trek back to her hotel, looking forward to getting out of the city.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The S facility in Los Angeles stood an impressive 30 stories. It was a state of the art facility that spanned over five city blocks, a massive labyrinth of concrete and steel. A multi-million dollar structure, not including the billions of dollars worth of equipment and technology hidden inside of it; dozens of labs and research stations, as well as the executive offices to control them. Across the street stood a structure a little over a third of the building's size: the parking garage that connected to the third floor via walkway.

_The beginning of another Umbrella._

Ada stood at the front of the building, standing on the edge of the sidewalk and craning her neck upwards in an effort to take in it's size. Today was Kelly Chao's first day working with S Pharmaceutics. Kelly was born in China, raised in the states. She took an American first name when she was 12. Once she got into college, she worked for 7 years to attain her master's degree.

At least, that's what it said in Ada's resume given to S a week earlier. Taking note of her abilities, they wasted no time hiring her on the spot. After her background check, she was all set to start working at one of the largest pharmaceutic companies in the world.

Only beaten by the former Umbrella, S was almost a near duplicate to the evil company, and had only grown in size and power in the past six years. They too had dabbled in the science of bioweapons and viral weaponry, although they fell short due to the lack of the Progenitor virus. The organization had heard several rumors that they were close to creating something, but they lacked the evidence to prove it.

_Maybe that's why they're joining with Wesker; they need the parasite to finish whatever they started. S would definitely pay a high price for the Plagas sample._

S and Umbrella were nearly identical, but S wasn't stupid enough to let their research leak. The mansion incident and the following Raccoon City disaster caused the fall of Umbrella. So far, S had played it smart. They only had a few secret facilities, and they still hadn't produced anything close to the magnitude of the T-virus.

Ada reached down and adjusted the laminated ID card clipped to her belt. It stated the name Kelly Chao, a seven digit security code, and a picture of Ada's face, beaming through a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Annoyed, she adjusted the same glasses on her face. They gave her an intelligent look without sacrificing much of her natural aura, but it irritated Ada greatly that she had to stare through useless glass.

The organization kept close tabs on S. They didn't want anyone taking Umbrella's place. Unfortunately, S was aware of the organization, but only at a most base level. Still, every precaution was taken to avoid confrontation with the mega-corporation.

But, after a week with no leads on the assassin, the organization had to take a risk. Crow wanted Ada to infiltrate the S facility in LA for information. The main corporate headquarters was located in Philadelphia, but to try and break in there would have been nothing short of stupid. Besides, the Los Angeles facility held several key executives that were sure to have classified information.

After giving her geeky glasses one more adjustment, Ada entered the building's revolving doors. S's design taste seemed to match Umbrella's as well.

The lobby was huge, resembling more of a bank than a research center. The floor was marbled tile, complimented by matching walls. Large, decorative lamps hung from the high ceiling. There was a row of six elevators along the far wall. Every time one would open, a surge of well dressed people would spill out, only to be replaced by more. There were reception desks along the wall next to the elevators. Behind each dark, polished frame sat a professional looking man or woman, conversing with lines of people behind each one.

Ada strode across the lobby, passing directly over the S emblem set into the polished floor: a golden bold 'S' inscribed around the Caduceus of Greek mythology. The clicking of her short black heels were dulled by the noisy happenings of the lobby. She hated to be sensibly dressed as she was, a black knee length skirt and matching short sleeved blouse. It gave her a feeling of plainness, something that she strove not to be.

Ada stepped into line behind a man in the elevator line. A few minutes later, herself and a dozen other people were crammed inside. The elevator made several stops, then Ada got out on the 21st floor with two other people.

_Entry level floor for research and development. Six labs, all level 1 access._

The blueprints for the facility were easy enough to obtain. The company had been more than happy to give them a map of her work area, and the rest of the facility was obtained after a quick computer hack. Ada had committed most of it to memory. The labs started on the 21st floor and went up, the higher clearance labs on the top floors. Below the labs were offices, comprising the middle of the building. Beneath that was financial affairs and accounting, smaller business offices, the lobby, and two sub-basement parking lots.

She strolled past a security guard. Her eyes darted to the belt he wore. He was armed: a gun and a baton. He wore a headset, like those used in cellular phones. It wasn't hard to figure out that it was a radio.

_If the level 1 floors are patrolled by armed guards, I hate to see what's on the higher clearance floors and executive levels. I have to be careful. If my cover gets blown, the entire building is going to come down on me._

Ada, rather, Kelly, was suppose to first report to her office, a small room shared by three other people on the southeast corner of the building. However, her true objective lay two floors below.

The organization was almost one hundred percent sure that Wesker was collaborating with S to take them out. The Los Angeles facility had legitimate research, nothing illegal, but it held the offices of a few key executives. Executives with a lot of information. One such man was Arnold Taylor, who managed the research teams in Los Angeles as well as handled most of the financial doings of the company.

His office was on the 19th floor. From what Ada remembered it was on the northwest end of the facility. All she had to do was sneak in, make a copy of his personal computer files, then leave. She would be out before S realized that Kelly Chao never came to work. She would be written off as an uncaring stuck up bitch who didn't bother showing up for work. Case closed.

Ada turned left at a junction in the hall instead of going right. She spotted the stairs in front of her.

_Camera, up and to the left._

Taking a file tucked under her arm the entire time, she held it up to her face, pretending to read as she walked and covering her face from the camera near the door. As soon as she was through, she descended two stories down.

Ada pushed the door to the 19th floor open slowly, then peeked around it. The hall was a lot nicer than the 21st, and thankfully empty. It was carpeted, which would nullify the sound of her heels. She started down the quiet hall, her ears straining for the sound of anyone approaching. She neared another intersection.

_A left, then four doors down, then another left._

Voices floated down through the next hall. Ada quickly pressed herself against a potted plant and buried her face in her file. The two chatting people, whether they be secretaries or executives, passed by her without acknowledging her.

She peeked around the corner; the coast was clear. Walking as quickly as suspicion would allow, she headed down the next hall, then veered left again. At the end of the hall were two large, dark oak doors, the name Taylor inscribed on a brass plate.

Upon reaching the door, Ada dug her PDA out, then dialed a number. The other end rang once, and a young woman's voice answered.

"Hello, S Corporation financial office, Tammy speaking."

Ada gave a quick glance over her shoulder. "Hello Tammy. Is Mr. Taylor in today?"

"One moment please." There was a brief pause as Ada was put on hold. Someone else walked past, and older man in a suit. He caught Ada's eye, but just kept walking. Tammy picked up again. "No, I'm afraid Mr. Taylor is out for the day. Could I take a message?"

"No thank you. Good-bye."

Ada hung up and glanced around again. The hallway was empty. She tried the latch on the door and found it open. She swiftly darted inside and shut the door behind her.

Taylor's office was large and richly decorated. Combined with the organization and her current lifestyle, Ada was slightly amazed that she wasn't sick of such surroundings all together. The room was divided into three sections. One corner had several thick comfortable looking chairs and sofas surrounding a coffee table. The other corner had a small bar (apparently S didn't mind alcohol during work). In the center of the northern wall, in front of a large window with a good view of the Los Angeles skyline was a desk.

Ada went over to the computer and switched it on. As it warmed up, she took a length of cable from her pocket, plugging one end into her PDA and the other into the modem. Really, Ada took the hand-held device for granted. The high tech gadget had the ability to copy a computer's hard drive, as well as compress it for storage. The entire process took only a few minutes.

Ada initiated the program and waited, clicking her manicured nails on the glossy desktop. If S and Wesker hired an assassin, one as professional as they had assumed, it would cost quite a large sum of money. If anyone had the record of that payment, it would be Arnold Taylor. She would snag the files now, then sift through them later. It was their best and only lead.

Just as Ada's PDA was finishing it's task, she heard voices out in the hall.

_Dammit! That better not be Taylor. I'm not even armed._

She could handle one man unarmed, but if a red light went up, Ada would be no match for the building's security without a weapon. She had to get out of the office. She began to disconnect from the computer, using her fingernail on the touch screen rather than the tedious stylus. She could just pull the device free, but then she would be risking a corruption of data. Then her little adventure would have been completely pointless.

Ada disconnected and stuffed both the cord and her PDA back into the pocket of her skirt, then pressed the computer monitor's power switch. She didn't have time to shut down the machine completely. Just as she put her hand on the cold metal handle of the door, she felt the latch move.

The door cracked open, opening inward. Without a sound, Ada flung herself along the wall, her heart hammering and adrenaline spiking. The door opened further and a man, presumably Mr. Taylor, stepped into the room, a cell phone glued to his ear. His head cast down, focused on the conversation he was having, he gave the door a light push and stepped towards his desk.

Ada saw her chance and took it. She caught the edge of the door with her fingers, holding it open just long enough to slip back out into the hall, behind Taylor's back. The door closed lightly behind her; the hallway was even still empty.

A long breath escaped Ada, and she chuckled at her luck. Her entire assignment had almost gone to hell, and for some reason, she thought it was funny. And the hallway was still empty, not even a camera had witnessed her.

All that was left to do was exit the building and report back to Crow. This time, Ada headed for the elevators. Being careful to keep her face away from the camera's in the ceiling, she turned a corner and ran right into something. It was one of the security personnel, just like the one she saw a few floors up: uniform, gun, and earpiece.

"Oh! Excuse me!" Ada exclaimed and began to walk off, but not before seeing the look on the mans face: suspicion. She felt his hand touch the middle of her shoulder as she passed, a touch requesting her attention.

"Ma'am? I'm sorry, but you don't have the clearance to be here," he stated.

Ada's adrenaline spiked again. This wasn't good.

"I..um, sorry?" she stammered. The nervousness of Kelly Chou was playing perfectly on her features.

The guard nodded towards her waist. "Your badge is slated for level 1 access. This floor is level 4."

_Damn, why didn't I turn it the other way!_

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Ada said. "It's just that...it's my first day here, and I got a little lost while trying to deliver something, see I didn't see any card readers, and..." she trailed off, sounding both embarrassed and apprehensive.

"I don't think it'll be a problem," the guard said, waving a hand. "If I could just see your badge."

Her hands mocking nervous clumsiness, Ada clipped off her ID badge from her hip and handed it to him. He turned away a bit and pressed his finger to his ear, staring at the badge.

"Control, ID check please, over."

The crackle of the radio and the dispatcher on the other side was clear, even to Ada, whose senses were being honed by adrenaline.

"_Go ahead._"

"Chou, Kelly, over."

"_Standby..._"

Twiddling the edge of the file in her hands, Ada was genuinely starting to get nervous when a second guard showed up, this time from the hall behind her. Ada tensed on the inside. He was African American, and built _a lot _thicker than the first one.

_It's probably nothing, just meeting up with his buddy, happened to find us._

"_Confirmed_," crackled the dispatcher, "_Chou, Kelly, ID one-one-seven-mark-three-five-six-niner. Access level 1._"

The guard offered Ada her badge back, and she took it, clipping it back to her hip.

"Everything checks out, ma'am. Now, if you could kindly remove yourself from the premise." Ada beamed him a relieved, flustered smile.

"Thank you, and I'm very sorry."

Ada turned to head to the elevator. There was another tiny burst of noise from the guards earpiece. She was just close enough to make out the majority of it. It was a different dispatcher.

"_Attention all units_..._compromised...believed to be middle aged, asian...-dentified as employee, Chou._"

In one motion the guard drew his gun and leveled it at her face. He was fast, Ada would give him that. Her instincts her a lot faster.

As soon as the gun was up, Ada grabbed it with her left hand and twisted it down towards his hip. At the same time, her right hand shot out and drove it's palm into his face. The guard was stunned, but he didn't let go of the gun. Ada grabbed it with both hands and rotated it; there was a snap as the guards finger trapped in the trigger guard broke.

Just as he yelled, Ada pulled the gun from his grasp. She spun, whirling the gun around in her hand, aiming for the second guard. Fortunately for Ada, the second guard was a lot slower. The butt of the pistol cracked across the big man's temple, and he crumpled to the floor without so much as a groan.

As the first guard was preoccupied holding his injured hand, Ada took the chance to strike. She kicked high, the heel of her foot striking him square on the side of the head. He slammed against the wall, gave a small groan, then was out cold.

The gun was clenched tightly in Ada's hand, her hands already in the contours of the grip and ready to fire. Dropping both guards had taken less than a few seconds, and she was breathing lightly from the burst of speed.

Without skipping a beat, Ada reached down and plucked the radio ear piece from the unconscious guard. She pressed it the speaker into her ear. The dispatcher was speaking again.

"..._William, come in, over. William, please respond...All units, we've lost contact with two of our people. Last seen on floor 19. Chou is suspected to be armed. Use extreme caution._"

_So much for getting out easily._

Ada plucked the glasses from her face and tossed them to the ground, then took off in the direction of the staircase. She tucked the gun in the back of her skirt and let her blouse hang over it, concealing it. With any luck, she wouldn't have to use it. Her left hand still hovered at her ear, keeping the ear bud pressed firmly in it. The chatter between security was increasing.

"_Unit 8, call up maintenance, lock the elevators down._"

"_Copy._"

The elevators were out. Ada was stuck using the stairs. She didn't have her grapple gun, so she couldn't just jump out a window. She pushed through the stairwell door and began to move down the steps as fast as she could.

"_Unit 5 here, we're sweeping the western staircase._"

Several floors down, Ada heard the sound of a door opening. She cursed, then went through the next door, floor 14.

"_Unit 14, no one here on floor 19. I've located William and Jake. They're unconscious. Be advised, Jake's sidearm is missing. Chou is confirmed to be armed._"

Fortunately, the guard who had found the other two hadn't noticed that a radio was missing as well. As long as Ada could listen in, her chance for escape was decent. Unfortunately, the radio network would also give security an advantage. Slowly, the net would tighten.

"_Roger that 14._ _Umm...Parker, get a med to those two, make sure they're okay. There! All units, target has been located. Floor 14 exiting west stairwell._"

Ada glanced up and saw the camera peering at her. Once again, they didn't notice the ear piece she was wearing. She racked her brain for a plan. The building had three different sets of stairs, and security was going to be watching each one now that the elevators were out.

_I could block the transmissions. I have a radio. Just hold down the transmit and block the others. But then I won't know what their positions are or what they are planning. Shit...I could even run into a patrol. Think!_

The answer hit suddenly. Ada didn't know why she didn't think of it sooner. Security hadn't tripped an alarm yet. They didn't want to throw the whole facility into a panic. They wanted to weed her out without the fear of friendlies getting in the way. She could jam the radio, but she needed to be sure that security was occupied.

The answer was on the corner ahead of her: a bright red panel that said "pull in case of fire". The classic fire alarm trick. Ada pulled the lever down. Instantly, a shrill alarm began to screech from everywhere.

"_A fire alarm? Shit, it's from floor 14-_"

The transmission cut as Ada held the send button. She grinned, thinking about their confused reactions when they were unable to reach each other. She took it from her ear and held it in her hand, out of sight.

People began to file out of the offices, some looking confused, some looking irritated. Moving with a clump of people, Ada walked to the eastern staircase. The stairwell was full of a mass exodus of people, all going down to the first floor.

Down a few floors, several guards were trying their best to stand their ground, scanning the people for the intruder. Ada kept her face to the ground and passed right by them. Neither of them noticed. In a few minutes, she reached the first floor.

The lobby had been busy before, but that paled in comparison to how it was now. The large entrance was packed with people shoulder to shoulder. Some were wearing casual dress clothes, like Ada. Others had expensive suits, and still others had white lab coats and sterile clothes.

As Ada moved towards the door, she let the radio fall from her hand, where it was trampled by the mob around her. In another few seconds, she was out the door and back into the warm, 70 degree California weather.

By the time security had moved outside to begin sweeping, Ada was three city blocks away and out of their reach forever.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**What's up people? For those of you reading this, I hope you are enjoying it! Now I need your help. I have a couple ideas for future stories, but I don't know what I should do next. I put a poll up in my profile with some choices. Sooooo if you could put a vote in, it would help me out ALOT. And, if you are so inclined, you could let me know how this stories going. If you think it sucks, by all means, please tell me! If you have any pointers for me, I would love to hear 'em.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Initially, Leon had had high hopes for his assignment. Now, two and a half weeks later with no strong leads, his moral began to dwindle. He'd traveled thousands of miles, crossing the Atlantic ocean more than once, as well as most of Europe, presumably following the trail of Ada Wong...

He'd been right to start with the key she had given him for the jet ski. The forensic teams hadn't been able to glean anything off it. There were no prints, skin tags, nothing; which didn't surprise Leon. Anything that was on it was washed away in the flight from the island, and he himself had handled it a dozen times between then. Besides, having Ada's DNA would be useless. She wasn't on any government records.

When it came to combat and infiltration, Leon was one of the best. But detective work wasn't one of his high marks, so for this assignment, he needed help. Director Fischer had been very clear: the GSA was willing to do whatever they needed to do to apprehend Ada. That is why Leon decided to call in an old friend.

When it came to private investigators, Leon's old buddy Ark Thompson was the best. Years ago, he had helped Leon in the fight against Umbrella. At his request, Ark infiltrated Sheena Island to gather evidence against Umbrella.

The operation didn't exactly go as planned. After nearly losing his life in a helicopter wreck, Ark developed a case of retrograde amnesia: he lost all of his memories before the accident. With no idea who he was or why he was there, Ark had to fight through an outbreak of the T-virus. Fortunately, he regained his memory, and was able to escape with his life intact.

So far on the assignment, Ark's skills had proved to be invaluable.

Leon would have been content just working with Ark. However, on the day they were preparing to depart, a message came through the GSA's foreign affairs office. America wasn't the only one having trouble with Wesker's organization. A dozen other other countries had devoted sizable amounts of effort and time to similar assignments.

The message had come from China. Ada had been spotted there some time ago, and they wanted one of their operatives to assist Leon, someone from the Chinese Ministry of State Security. Her name was Fong Ling.

Fong Ling was the Chinese government's top agent. Leon read her dossier very thoroughly. She was an accomplished marksman, and even more deadly with her bare hands. Like Leon, she specialized in combat and infiltration. The tasks mostly assigned to her were those of spy-hunting: she would seek out and apprehend other agents who would threaten her government.

To Leon, Fong Ling was a woman carved from a solid block of ice. She rarely showed emotion, other than the occasional sly grin when something went her way. She never spoke much outside of the mission, so Leon hardly knew about her personal past; most of the things given about her were official transcripts.

Like Ark, she had experience with Umbrella. A while back, she was assigned to take out a renegade Umbrella employee who hijacked a cruise ship. The ship, as luck would have it, had been contaminated by the T-virus and was carrying bioweapons.. Not too much was said about it, although Leon was told that an American agent was also on the scene. He'd neglected to pick up the file on that.

Once assembled, the unlikely trio began their assignment. The GSA picked up the jet ski from where Leon and Ashley rode it to. Ark's thinking was that it was purchased near the village and island of the Los Illuminados. He was correct; the GSA forensic teams traced the watercraft to a dealership in a mid-sized Spanish city near the village.

Spain was their first breakthrough. The dealer recalled selling a jet ski to a very attractive seniorita about a week ago. She appeared to be of eastern descent. The transaction was made via credit. This was also their first problem.

The dealer refused to give them anything on the transaction, claiming that he couldn't give out personal information. Leon's government ID was useless out of the country, a problem he had foreseen, but not given much thought to. However, the problem was solved by Fong Ling. She was the only one who spoke Spanish, and even then it was muddled by her heavy Chinese accent. She never told Leon what she said to the dealer, but whatever it was made him hand over the information in a hurry.

Ark traced the transaction to an account in Switzerland. About five hundred miles later, the team found arrived in the mountainous European country. The bank there proved to be more difficult than the dealership in Spain. They claimed that they had never even met the account holder. When Leon tried to press more questions, they found themselves being escorted out by security and barred from the building.

After Leon and Fong Ling "visited" the bank one more time, they left with the information they needed, then got the hell out of Switzerland. Fischer had said by any means necessary...

Even though Ark had a record of various transactions and money transfers, he was unable to determine where the account was used last. Money was being cycled out of the account on a monthly basis, spreading like a web all over Europe, Asia, and the Americas.

Leon, Ark, and Fong Ling puddle jumped all over the nearest locations in Europe: Italy, Germany, Spain, Denmark and more. They spent two weeks searching for more leads, coming up empty at each location.

After finding nothing, Ark had an idea: they had to start searching larger cities. "It would be hard for a person like Ada to hide in a small city," he'd said. So, they went through the list, then picked the largest cities. The first was Munich, Germany. Dead end.

After coming up empty once again, the trio found themselves in New York...

Leon sighed and twisted his hand on the vinyl steering wheel of the Jeep. The loud creaking it generated almost seemed to soothe him. Outside, the gridlocked rush hour traffic of the New York city streets moved slowly below them. He curled his hand around the wheel again.

"Leon, stop doing that," Ark said irritably from the passenger seat.

"Sorry," he apologized, ceasing the annoying action and settling for tightly gripping the wheel.

Ark sighed and scratched his cheek. The stubble from his lack of shaving had become more evident in the past few days. Leon felt just as grizzled as Ark looked. He hadn't had a decent nights sleep in two weeks. Fong Ling was the only one who still remained clean looking, though she had become less and less talkative. Leon could sense that they were all on edge.

"Eh, okay," Ark said, pulling out a small notepad from his hooded sweatshirt pocket, consulting it as he spoke. "This is the only major city the account funneled money to on the east coast. If we don't find something here, we'll be hard pressed for our next move."

"So what do you think we should look for then?" Leon asked.

"Well, like I said, it wouldn't be easy for Ada to stay hidden in a small city. She probably moves around a lot as well. She's more likely to stay longer in a place like this, so this is our best chance at getting info. The account showed that a couple grand had been shelled out here..."

"We should be looking for any suspicious criminal activity," interrupted Fong Ling. "When my government first became aware of Wong, she managed to level a small building before we could catch her." She closed the laptop she had been using to review some information. "I'll check the some of the local precincts."

Leon looked in the rear view mirror and found her staring right back. Her mind was made up, so he didn't bother arguing her. It was a good idea, after all. He just nodded.

"Not exactly where I was going, but whatever works," Ark said flatly. "I'll check to see if any of the money was sent to an account at any of the banks. If a few thousand dollars was sent here, it must have been used for _something_. Maybe I can find out something there."

"Alright, that sounds like a plan," said Leon. "Meet back here in six hours?"

"What do you plan on doing, Leon?" Fong Ling asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know," Leon admitted truthfully. "I guess I'll contact Hunnigan, give her an update. She might have something on her end."

Ark and Fong Ling seemed satisfied with that. The three of them left the Jeep, parked on the second level of a parking garage in downtown New York.

Once outside, Leon put his coat on, a fleeced lined brown denim jacket; a perfect match to the one he lost in Spain. It had gotten colder outside, the weather progressing further into autumn. Ark settled for a layer of sweatshirts, the top one being a tattered green one. Fong Ling seemed completely unaffected by the cold; she wore only a thin Chinese style blouse, black with an imprint of a phoenix swirling around it.

Ark and Fong Ling departed, leaving Leon to himself. He pulled out his phone, but then put it back in his pocket. He didn't feel like calling Hunnigan anymore.

_Hell, I don't even want to be here!_

He scuffed his boot against the concrete of the parking garage. He was acting stupid, almost childish. This was _his_ mission. Fong Ling was assigned to the case by her superiors, and Ark was here on his own time. If anyone had a right to complain, it was them.

He decided to take a walk and clear his head. He started down the stairs of the garage and got onto the public sidewalk, then began to walk, no particular destination in mind. A sudden rush of mental agitation was making it hard to think.

_Once I get some fresh air and calm down, I might be able to think of something. The others wouldn't be too happy if I started slacking off. Especially Fong Ling._

Fong Ling bothered Leon for one (and very stupid) reason: she reminded him of Ada. And in the most bizarre ways, too. Physically, they were completely the opposite. Fong Ling was short, about the average height of a Chinese woman. Like all Chinese women, she had the characteristic black hair and almond eyes. Leon would even go so far as to call her cute, even pretty, but not to her face. He didn't feel like getting socked.

Ada, on the other hand, was tall for a woman, even without the heels that Leon had always seen her in, giving her an air of elegance. She didn't look pure Asian, but at the same time, she didn't look pure Caucasian, either. With a last name of Wong, and the first name of Ada, Leon wouldn't be surprised if she was of mixed decent, maybe from Europe. And pretty didn't just quite cut it; she was downright gorgeous.

Ada and Fong Ling most resembled each other through their actions. Both had a history of espionage and ruthless tactics. He had read Fong Ling's files, and what he'd seen Ada perform, he guessed they were pretty much on par with each other when it came to fighting. The only difference was that Fong Ling appeared to be more direct, while Ada was more of the cloak and dagger type.

Despite the fact that Leon was trying to clear his head, his thoughts kept drifting back to Ada. He wasn't sure why he kept thinking about her, even when he wasn't working on his assignment. He didn't like the fact that he could be getting closer in proximity to her.

_It almost feels like I'm someone being confronted with their addiction._

Yep, that was it. He was addicted to Ada Wong.

But why shouldn't he be? He wouldn't deny that they had something. Why else hadn't she loaded her gun in Raccoon City? Why didn't she take him out in Spain when she had more than plenty of opportunities? Leon didn't have the answers, only more questions that made the truth seem farther away. She never said if she felt the same way, at least, not directly. There were a few words shared in Raccoon, but Leon didn't quite trust her then. Until he heard it straight from her lips, he would never have an answer.

_But what if I am just addicted? What if I was just swept up by her looks, and now some wires got crossed and I can't get her out of my head?_

He was right to be addicted. How could any man not take one look at a woman like that and not a second? That dress she had been wearing in Spain was definitely pure silk; he could tell just by the way the light fell on it. It was the kind of dress a woman shelled serious money out for, only wearing it for one day of the-

-the revelation came to Leon so suddenly, he almost missed it. He stopped abruptly, causing a passerby to brush past him and let out a string of angry curses as he almost tripped. Leon made his way to the end of the sidewalk, near the side of a building and away from all the foot traffic, trying to get his bearings.

_Back in Raccoon...she wore a red dress...head held high...she was confident, almost cocky, arrogant. In Spain, another dress, acting without a care in the world..._

The gears in Leon's head turned furiously. It was a wild, stupid hunch, but at the same time, it didn't seem that stupid at all.

He dug his phone out of his coat pocket and punched a number. The other end rang once.

"Hey Leon. What's up?" chirped Hunnigan from somewhere in Washington.

"Hunnigan, are you at a computer?" Leon asked abruptly.

She gave a brief chuckle. "You know it."

"I need you to do a search for me," Leon paused and looked up, spying the street signs on the corner of the street. "Give me the locations of all the best hotels and places to stay within walking distance of 5th avenue and 57th."

Hunnigan sighed, "Leon, just because you're on the country's payroll doesn't mean you can blow our budget so you guys can stay someplace nice..."

"It isn't for us, Hunnigan," Leon said, irritated. "Just do it." He paused, then added, "For me."

Hunnigan herself sighed irritably. "Okay, gimme a sec."

Over the phone, Leon heard the faint sound of keys clacking and a few mouse clicks.

"Alright, here you are." Hunnigan listed off five addresses. "Now do you mind telling me why you need these?"

"Call it a hunch. Gotta go."

Leon hung up and started walking in the direction of the nearest address. He had overlooked one key attribute of Ada. In fact, they had been going on about the whole investigation the wrong way. It was impossible to catch a spy by looking for them as a spy. They needed to find Ada the person, not Ada the spy.

When he met her in Raccoon City, Ada was coolly blasting cannibalistic virus carriers and monsters, all while being dressed for a cocktail party. Leon had been close to her; she was wearing some triple digit perfume, just enough to overcome the odor of decomposition around them.

Six years later, very little had changed. An agent himself, Leon had been carrying weapons and equipment in various holsters and pockets, donning weather resistant clothing. And Ada? A thin, slinky red dress and high heels. He even smelled the same perfume she wore in Raccoon, and still wore that same, confident look.

_Ada has a pretty high opinion of herself, not to mention a lust for fashion and drama. If I were her, constantly on the move with a few million in a Swiss bank account, would I stay at some grubby motel? Hell, I'd even put money down if she's a narcissist or has got a histrionic disorder._

It took Leon a few hours of trekking to cover the distance between each extravagant hotel. He wasn't finding anything; none of the hotel employees could recall seeing an woman like Ada recently. Now, back in America, Leon had more authority. He got each hotel to send it's security footage to the GSA. The teams there could sift through them. At least it was a start. He'd have to call in a few teams to cover all of the places in New York more thoroughly.

Leon might have been coming up with nothing, but he felt good about it. At least he was sure he could predict some things about her. If they couldn't find anything this time, there was always the next stop. He had time to check the last address Hunnigan gave him before he had to meet up with Fong Ling and Ark.

"Huh, the Mandarin Oriental," Leon muttered as he walked into the lobby. In his opinion, these places were named pretty weird.

He walked up to the reception desk. The clerk there gave him a stuck up glance of contempt at his normal clothes. Everyone else around him was dressed much more formally. Ada would fit in perfectly in a place like this.

"Can I help you?" the clerk drawled, not at all trying to hide his annoyance at being bothered by a commoner.

Leon gritted his teeth. He'd been putting up with this all day. "Yeah, you can." He took out his ID and showed it to the clerk. "My name is Leon Kennedy, I'm an operative working for US intelligence. I need some information."

The clerk didn't seemed fazed by Leon's attempt to undermine his authority. Instead, he gave a small grin, as if he was humoring Leon by listening to him.

"What information do you require, Mr. Kennedy?"

A man wearing a hotel uniform passed behind Leon, "Hey, I'm going out for a cig, okay?" he interrupted briefly.

The clerk waved dismissively at the employee and turned his attention back to Leon.

"Did an Asian woman check in or out of this hotel in the past week?" Leon asked, "Tall, about 30?"

"Do you have a name?" the clerk asked, missing the point completely.

"No, I don't. That's why I'm looking for her."

"Well, Mr. Kennedy, I'm sure you understand that we receive dozens of guest each _day_. You can't really expect us to remember each one by face and ethnicity, do you?"

_Heh, I wonder if I could beat it out of him._ Leon grinned to himself, enjoying the thought of the clerk crumpling underneath him.

"Something amusing?"

"Not really. I'm going to need your surveillance footage. You do have cameras, right?"

"Yes, but you just can't..."

"Good. Someone will be here in a few days to pick it up-"

"-_Excuse me,_" the clerk barked, "But you just can't barge in here, wave a card and expect us to hand over our video tapes! That's private information." Leon grinned again.

"Actually, yeah, I can. So you can either make my job easier, or your's harder."

The clerk finally seemed beat. He just shrugged and let his shoulders sag, shaking his head in disbelief. Leon turned and left the lobby. Still, no new information, but there was a chance that something could be gained from the surveillance cameras. Now, all that was left to do was to send operatives to the other hotels and-

"Hey, chief," said a voice.

Leon turned and saw the hotel employee from earlier, leaning against the building, a cigarette in between his fingers.

"I heard you say you were lookin' for someone."

Leon's interest perked up. "Yeah."

"Asian woman?"

Leon almost felt breathless. "Yeah," he repeated.

"Well, I dunno if she's the one you're looking for, but I've got a feeling it is."

"Why's that?"

The man took a drag from his half finished cigarette. "Because when a smokin' hot ten opens the door wearing nothing but silk and lace, you figure she isn't just a normal chick. But yeah, she was Asian, or at least part Asian."

"About so tall?" Leon said, gesturing to his own shoulder.

"Yeah, give or take."

"Did you get a name? Who was she checked in as?"

"Can't really remember. It sure as hell wasn't anything foreign, real plain sounding. Daniels...Davids...Davis something?"

So Ada was using an alias, or aliases. A brief thought crossed Leon's mind: was Ada Wong really her name, or was that also made up? At any rate it didn't matter. They wouldn't need a name to find her.

Leon continued with the questioning. "Did she seem unusual or suspicious in any way?"

"No, not really. Oh wait, she did have a bandage on her right leg, about here." He motioned to his thigh. "I dunno, people stick themselves all the time. The reason why I saw her is because I had to deliver something to her."

"Who was it?" asked Leon, now wishing he had a notepad like Ark always did.

The employee shrugged. "Some suit in a limo."

"Did you catch a plate number?"

"Uhh, I don't know, it might have had a 9 in the last three digits, or was it a 6...no, it was a 9, definately. Anyway, I dropped off the message and bam, she's there, looking like she just got up. It was quite the, uh, eyeful. I'm talking stuff you don't casually get in a Victoria's Secret. Not a whole lot of it either..."

Leon couldn't say if Ada had been seriously injured in Spain. Some bruises maybe, but if she had been hurt, she certainly didn't show it. He had no idea what the deal was with the limousine.

_Could it have been Wesker? No, he wouldn't let himself be seeing in public like that._

"So, what's up with her?" the employee asked, "Why are you after her?"

"I can't really say," said Leon, "It's one of those things. You know, government issues."

"Ah, classified, got it. Alright, I won't bug you with it, seeing that I'm not going to get anything back."

Leon checked his watch. He needed to get back. Ark was bad enough when he was pissed, and now he also had Fong Ling to deal with.

"Alright man, I gotta go. Thanks for the intel. Security tapes should pick up something." Leon dug into his pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, then slapped it in the man's hand. It wasn't the first he'd used on his assignment. "A little something for your trouble."

The man thanked him, and Leon was on his way. His phone buzzed in his pocket. At first, he thought it was Hunnigan, but to his surprise, it was Ark.

"Leon, it's Ark," he said quickly. "Me and Fong Ling are already back. We hit the damn motherload. Get your ass back here!"

"Got it." Leon hung up and broke into a sprint, his excitement rising. Ark had news, and so did he. They really did hit the motherload.

When he got back to the parking garage, Leon was out of breath. Ark was pacing back and forth by the Jeep. Fong Ling was calmly leaning against the rear hatch.

"I...got...news..." panted Leon.

"So do we," said Fong Ling. "Big news."

"So who goes first?" asked Ark, then added sarcastically, "Rock, paper, scissors? The suspense is killing me."

"I think...Ada has been spotted." Leon said, catching up with his lungs. "In a hotel. One of the employees saw a woman that matched her description."

Fong Ling seemed interested in this. "How long ago?"

"About a week, give or take. It means we're on the right track."

"About a week ago," she said, "there was not a lot of unusual criminal activity, with the exception of one incident." She pointed to a file sitting on the hood of the Jeep. "A car simply exploded killing about ten people. Where did you say this hotel was?" Leon gave her the location. "This was about 5 or 6 blocks away. The car was almost completely vaporized."

Leon looked through the file. It was the report from Fong Ling's narration. There were several photos along with it. What was left of the car could be fit into a garbage bag.

"Fong Ling, what kind of car was it."

"It was a limousine. Cops ran a trace on the license plate, but couldn't find a match anywhere."

Leon thumbed through the photos until he found the one he wanted. It showed what little was left of the limousine: a few charred, misshapen chunks of metal, part of a hubcap, and half of a license plate. Part of the digits read F91. The hotel employee had said one of the digits was a nine.

Leon's heart beat faster. This information was almost too good to be true.

"Ark, please drive this home..."

Ark grinned and folded his arms across his chest.

"You know how all of the money was being sent to different accounts? I there's a reason. It's a lot harder to get money from oversea than it is in the states. I checked out the account here. There was a purchase credited to it about a week ago. A single airline ticket, bought from JFK International."

Ark's grin broke into a full smile.

"It's destination? Los Angeles, California."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Sighing almost longingly, Ada stood overlooking the front yard of the The Peninsula Beverly Hills. Once again, shelling out 4 grand a night for a week was mere pennies for her. She had the best suite to herself, complete with kitchen and a dining room. Hell, she even had a damn piano; a pity she didn't play.

Ada just wished that she could enjoy herself more. The boredom was killing her. With the infiltration of S almost going to hell, Crow requested that she lay low, so lounging out by the pool in a bikini was out of the question. Even the hotel spa was off limits to her, and what Ada had seen in brochure only made her want it more. She never really liked watching TV for pleasure, so the 60 inch plasma screen fulfilled its purpose after she witnessed the news report on the S facility. Stripping and cleaning her gun ran it's course some time ago. She didn't even have a damn deck of cards.

It had been two days since Ada had sent S's financial records to the organization. Crow assured her that it wouldn't be long until they had some sort of results. For Ada, the results couldn't come soon enough. She'd much rather be out trying to find and eliminate the threat, rather than being forced to sit and wait. A threat like Wesker wasn't fixed by sitting around.

_But no. I'm supposed to stay inside and be a good girl until I hear back from Crow with an update. Fine then. If he wants a good girl, he'll get one. I just wish he would hurry up with that information_.

Ada tried to press the issue of Wesker with Crow last time they spoke. They had to act now. For all Ada knew, this was what Wesker wanted all along. If they played too far into his game, they wouldn't be able to get out. It was almost maddening for Crow to simply brush off the subject as if it were nothing. As attractive as his voice sounded, Ada probably would have slapped him, regardless of his standing in the organization.

Sighing again, Ada left the balcony and plopped down on the couch. She turned on the TV, but since it was only 1:30 in the afternoon, nothing was on. Already annoyed with the bland daytime programs, she toggled the mute on and opted to channel surf. The velour couch may as well have been granite. Her fist on her cheek was hot and rigid.

Mercifully, the sound she was waiting for came: a descending set of beeps, followed by three harsh buzzes. It was her PDA resting on the end table. The device shifted in it's position as its vibrate feature made it dance in three short jerks. The sequence began to repeat and Ada snatched it off the table then checked the screen. Call unknown.

The PDA was against her ear. "Tyrant's bane?"

"Raccoon's mask," replied Crow. "Hello Miss Wong."

A third sigh escaped Ada's lips. Relief. "Crow, thank God."

"Happy to hear from me, I see. How's Los Angeles?"

Ada gritted her teeth. "Boring as hell. Tell me you have _something_."

Crow chortled on the other side, amused with her angst.

"What's the rush? Can't I tease you a little longer?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Ada replied tersely as she paced the length of the living room.

"Very well then." Crow's voice turned serious. "We've had about a dozen people sifting through the information you've provided. S has been very busy, it seems."

"And?"

"We've found no evidence of an assassin for hire," he finished flatly.

Ada couldn't hide her disbelief or frustration. "You've _got_ to be kidding."

"Unfortunately, I'm not, Miss Wong. Nothing was found in Taylor's files. We've found financial records of large amounts drugs, medical supplies, and testing equipment, which is..."

"...is normal for a company like S," Ada finished for him.

"Precisely. There were no unusual transactions of money, so either the assassin is either working for free, or we are looking in the wrong place."

"Is there any chance that someone missed something?" asked Ada, almost hopefully.

"We've gone over the information several times," Crow assured her. "That's what took so long. Trust me, there's nothing."

"So, what's the plan then?"

"The organization doesn't have one," Crow said simply. "We don't have enough evidence to act against S."

"Evidence?" Ada almost thought she heard him incorrectly. "Crow, we don't need evidence! It's not like we're a faction of the local police! What's to hold us back from simply taking out Wesker right now?"

"Miss Wong," Crow said carefully, "We've been over this before. The organization wants the parasite as much as S does. If Wesker has already contacted them, we risk losing it by making a move now."

"If we _don't_ make a move now we risk losing it! Come on Crow," she pressed. "Do we really need to be held back by some stupid rules, or what the rest of the organization thinks? You have the most influence in the organization. Just say the word and Wesker's finished. Think about it." The tone of her voice dropped, glazed with sugar. "Just you and...me."

That should help press the issue. Crow obviously had a thing for her, so presenting herself in a more...desirable manner might yield better results.

"Miss Wong..." Crow began. By his condescending tone, Ada could tell he wasn't going to bite.

"We could have avoided this whole mess if we stuck to our original plan! Now, for all we know, Wesker's laughing his ass off while we're stuck dicking around-"

"_Ada!_"

Ada snapped her mouth shut. She hadn't even seen the line until after she crossed it. His voice cracked like a whip and felt like a slap across her face. Though she didn't know from experience, pissing off Crow was a dangerous thing. She breathed deeply, collecting herself, then spoke again, this time carefully.

"I...I'm sorry. It's just that I'm not the type to sit and do nothing. I'm a little frustrated."

"Quite alright," said Crow, his voice returning to its usual mellow level. "I myself haven't been feeling exactly peachy lately. The truth is, I don't like doing nothing either, which is why I've come up with a plan."

Ada blinked in surprise. "I thought you said you _didn't_ have a plan."

"No, I said the organization didn't have a plan. I, however, do."

"We, uh, wouldn't be going behind the organization's back, would we?"

"No, Ada, of course not. We are merely acting in our best interests. Wesker has complete access to all of our information, every bit of detail of our doings. If we sit about and plot with the rest of the organization, he has the opportunity to act against us. I believe that is why this assassin has remained illusive so far. It will be just you and me, as you so delicately put it."

Ada pondered this sudden change in strategy for a second. She knew Crow for about 5 years, and in that time learned very little about him. The only thing she figured about him was that he was a by the book type of person. She wasn't sure if this was normal for him, or if he had something else planned.

But still, having a plan was better than having no plan at all. She decided to go along with it.

"Okay then, so what are the details?"

Crow laughed on the other end. "Tell me, Miss Wong, do you enjoy opera?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The concave cosmetic mirror cast an enlarged image of Ada's right almond shaped eye. With surgical precision and care, her right hand carefully applied the brush to the underside of her eyebrow. After a few swabs, a faint shadow highlighted the area above her eyelids. The other eye was done in a matter of seconds.

Ada placed the multi-colored pallet of eyeshadow back with her other cosmetics, then took out a fresh tube of mascara. She brushed a few strokes onto her already black eyelashes. She didn't need that much to darken and curl them.

She completely ignored the pallet of foundation, sitting unopened. Even with her profession of choice, Ada had an even complexion. She just hoped her luck would keep it that way. She wouldn't call it a fear, but Ada was...concerned...for her looks. It might have been shallow thinking, but she really didn't see anyway around it. There was nothing wrong with looking good.

Ada's final cosmetic adjustment was an application of lipstick that turned her lips into a softer shade pink. In the larger mirror of the suite's bathroom, she pursed her lips together, ensuring an even spread of color between them. Satisfied, she retracted the stub of color into it's casing, then put it away.

She exhaled audibly, then picked up one of the earrings laying on the tiled bathroom counter. It was a set of three pearls, hanging vertically from each other by a silver strand. Once it was securely clasped, its sister was hooked in its place on Ada's other ear. Ada checked her reflection one more time, then ran a few fingers through her bangs, placing them correctly across her forehead.

The digital clock on the counter read 7:37. She still had some time before he arrived.

An average person receives probably thousands of phone calls in their life. About 99 of those were harmless, everyday calls. The remaining 1 were far from harmless. Ada wasn't sure if she could qualify her last call in either of those categories. It's content was perfectly normal, yet the situation it was delivered in wasn't.

This had been Crow's big plan:

A date.

_I still can't believe this. The man stays out of sight for 6 straight years. Now he casually calls me up and wants to take me out to the opera. He's either more desperate than I anticipated, or more arrogant than I ever imagined._

Crow's plan was a simple bait and trap: make it obvious that he was going to be vulnerable, then take the assassin out before she had a chance to strike. It would be risky for Crow, but Ada would be with him. After all, she would be his arm candy for the evening.

The clock's digits shifted, become 7:38. Crow was to pick her up at 8:00 pm sharp. Ada decided to inspect her attire for about the tenth time, making sure everything was perfect.

She ran the tips of her glossy fingernails underneath the wide collar that supported the halterneck of her dress; the diamond studded butterfly brooch wasn't sitting straight. The flowing, silken garment was another from her Chinese collection. The fabric shimmered the lightest teal, running down the length of her legs, stopping at her ankles. A slit up the left side stopped mid-thigh; Asian elegance met Western allurement.

The design of the dress was mostly plain, other than a waving floral pattern around the collar stitched in gold, and another leafy pattern around her ankles with dancing butterflies, also in gold. Ada ran two fingers down the side, smoothing a wrinkle near her hip. The dress clung closely, accenting her slight hourglass shaped body. Everything was in order.

The clocked shifted to 7:45. Time to go. Ada glided effortlessly across the hotel suite on white heels, stopping at the end table next to the couch to collect her weapon. The Beretta had been cleaned only hours before, the black metal gleaming in the lamplight. She methodically checked the clip, reinserted it, then racked the slide back. The sound of sliding metal comforted her a bit as she saw a 9mm hollow point load into the chamber.

She dropped the gun along with a spare magazine into her handbag, then picked up her shawl draped over one of the chairs. It was light pink, giving just the right touch of femininity to her attire, though Ada wasn't big on shawls. She left her room, then headed to the elevator. It would probably be the last time she would stay in it after the night's events.

Alone in the elevator, Ada's nerve's spiked briefly. She was about to meet one of the most important members of the organization. How could she not be a little curious (and nervous)? What did he look like after all this time?

She tucked her shawl around her arms, then silenced her body's girlish thinking. She remembered how she imagined Crow, based on his voice. Mid-thirties, spiked brown bangs, maybe sideburns. Ada allowed herself to laugh.

_But he's probably 50 with an unhealthy obsession with younger women. But if I play my cards right, I might be able to wrap him around my finger._

The elevator chimed, reaching the lobby. Ada glanced at the wall clock on her way to the front door. 7:56. The doorman happily opened the door for her as she passed into the warm California air. For reasons unknown, the Peninsula Beverly Hills was unusually quiet. She was the only one standing in the driveway. 30 seconds later, the black stretch limousine pulled up.

Ada couldn't deny that she was excited to finally meet Crow face to face. Still, she had to maintain appearances. She placed her left hand on her hip, smiling confidently as she held herself tall.

A well built man with broad shoulders exited the driver's side. Definitely a former football player. He kept his eyes locked on Ada as he circled around the back of the limo. He opened the rear door. A man stepped out.

"A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Miss Wong."

Ada wasn't sure what surprised her more: seeing Crow, or how right she had been when she guessed his appearance.

The man that stepped out of the limo was young, possibly even younger than Ada herself. He was about the same height as her, though she was wearing heels. He had short brown hair with bangs that were, amazingly, spiked up at an angle with gel. He was clean shaven, and had a row of perfect white teeth when he smiled. The only thing he was missing was the sideburns she had envisioned. He was dressed for the occasion in an expensive black tuxedo, black shined shoes, and a bow tie. The entire thing seemed to have been fitted perfectly for him. There wasn't a single blemish or rough edge on him.

And damn was he handsome.

Ada smiled and lifted her right hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

Crow took it, smiling. His hand was gentle, yet powerful on hers. He bowed at the waist and lifted her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. He seemed to think of himself as quite the gentleman. Ada would soon put that to the test.

Crow pulled from his kiss, but still held her hand between them. He cocked his head back, his eyes darting up and down, first to her feet, her legs, body, then back to her face.

"You look magnificent this evening, Miss Wong," he admired

"You don't look too bad yourself, Mr. Crow," she replied, reaching up to adjust his bow tie. The pressed glossy fabric felt smooth under her fingers. It wasn't a clip-on.

"Though I must admit, I am a trifle disappointed that I don't get to see you in red again."

That was one of the primary reason that Ada had chosen the dress she did. It was one of the very few that wasn't a shade of crimson. Teasing Crow was a part of her charm. If she played hard to get, it would make him that much more easier to manipulate.

"If everything is in order, shall we?" Crow asked, offering his hand to her.

Ada took his hand, and he helped her into the limo. The inside was jet black, and everything was either made of leather or polished wood. What looked like a tiny bar was built into the back end, well stocked with expensive liquor. The cold leather groaned softly as Ada sat down. Goosebumps rose on her shoulders and bare back from the cool fabric.

Crow got in behind her and his attendant shut the door. Ada half expected him to plop down right next to her and sling his arm over her shoulder, but instead he sat across from her. The driver's side door opened and shut and the limo's gears shifted. They were on their way.

"Can I offer you something to drink, Miss Wong?" offered Crow. "Some champagne or wine?"

"No, thank you." Ada hugged her shawl around her tighter. She wasn't sure if it was the leather of the car that was chilling her or if it was something else. "I assume you are going to elaborate on your plan, Mr. Crow?"

Crow chuckled. "Please, Miss Wong. I think we can drop the formalities. Call me James."

"Very well...James. Call me Ada."

"You always are so straight to the point, Ada. Couldn't we just spend a nice relaxing evening together without having to worry about the organization?"

Ada raised an eyebrow. So help him if he decided to pull a trick to get a date with her like in some damn soap opera. If he did, at least she would have her chance to slap him.

"And have us both getting capped by the assassin? I don't think so. That _is_ why we're here...right?"

"Of course. Just wishful thinking I suppose. Well, the plan is quite simple really. I've trickled some information in places where I know Wesker can find it. If the assassin makes an appearance, that should be all the evidence we need. Your job is to make sure I don't receive an untimely end."

"Just me?" Ada asked, a little surprised. "I figured a man of your standing would have more than just one man and myself guarding you."

"Too many people attracts too much attention. I prefer to use a little discretion when I move in public. Ulrich gives me all the protection I need. And I'm sure I'll be safe in your very capable hands..."

He glanced over Ada's form again. This time, Ada was almost sure that it _wasn't_ the leather that was chilling her.

"I hope I can perform to your expectations, James. Have there been any other incidents with the assassin since Grant's death?"

"There have been no other deaths, if that's what you mean," said Crow. "There was one close call. Another of the inner circle was attacked three days ago, but she managed to escape with her life. I can't say the same about her driver, though."

"Oh really?" Ada asked, genuinely intrigued. "Did she see a face?"

Crow shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. It was long distance; high caliber rifle."

"I see...I don't think my capable hands will be able to save you if she hits you from three blocks away."

Crow didn't seemed fazed by her comment. Instead, he smiled the same charming smile he'd had on his face the entire time.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that. The assassin hasn't struck the same way twice. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to show herself tonight, rather than pick me off with a cowardly rifle. We'll be ready for her when she does."

He leaned down and patted the base of the seat near his shiny shoes. Ada caught the stub of a handle sticking out from underneath it. It was some type of compact shotgun. Crow picked up a case that had Ada had missed earlier, setting it on his lap. He opened it, pulling a strap of a tactical holster into view. There was another handle sticking from it.

"A favorite toy of yours, if I'm not mistaken," commented Crow as he pulled a grapple gun from the holster. "I assume you're armed with your standard weapon?"

Ada nodded.

"Good. So is Ulrich. I think we'll do just fine."

They continued on their way in silence. Crow seemed perfectly happy with just looking at Ada. She, however, didn't. Normally, she didn't mind it if men were looking at her, but Crow seemed different. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was scratching at the back of her mind. To alleviate it, she tried to press a conversation.

"If you don't mind me asking, James..."

_-and I'm sure he doesn't-_

"How did you get your position? You seem to be fairly young to be heading something of this magnitude."

Crow chortled, as if he were amused by her naivety. "You wouldn't be the first to ask. You don't know, but the organization stretches back for quite some time. My father happened to hold the position, and when he...expired...I took his place."

The word "expired" was a little too emphasized for Ada's taste. Her stomach fluttered slightly, acting off of her nerves for the evening. Just what kind of person was Crow? For someone so smooth and good looking, it almost seemed impossible for him to be twisted or sadistic.

_But that's exactly how they always are. But unlike the usual lot, Crow seems to have at least more than half a brain to run the organization. Speaking of which..._

"So are you like Wesker, into biology?"

Crow shook his head. "No, not me. I'm a physicist."

Once again, Ada was surprised. "A physicist? That's a bit unusual for the type of work we do, if you don't mind me saying."

"Not at all."

The ride continued for about another twenty minutes. They pulled up into the circular driveway of the theater. On the outside, the building had an air of dark elegance. It stood tall in the night, yellow lights casting a foreboding shadow of the events to come. The driveway was packed with vehicles. Crow's limo wasn't the only one pulling up and shuttling people. It took several minutes to even pull up to the sidewalk and come to a complete stop.

As Ulrich came around and opened the door, Ada took a deep breath, willing her body's senses to heighten further. She was going to need each one of them for this to go smoothly. When the door opened, Ada's adrenaline spiked. Her mind ordered her body to settle down.

_Save some for later, you're going to need it. Keep cool._

She relaxed about an inch.

Crow offered his hand to Ada, maintaining his chivalry. She took it and he helped her out of the car. The warm air felt very muggy compared to the icy interior of the limo. In one slow movement, her eyes scanned the crowd thoroughly. There were couples all over the place, young, old, and in between. All of them were dressed similarly.

_I don't think she plans on bringing a date, so a single woman should stand out like a sore thumb. Don't think she's much into fashion either, so-_

"Please, Ada," Crow said, interrupting her processing. "If I'd wanted a watchdog, I would have brought one of mine. Relax."

Ada realized he was right. It was physically showing on her: her shoulders were tensed higher, and her neck was almost slouching. She willed her body to relax again, and she raised her head high.

Crow offered her his arm, grinning again. Ada hooked her arm gently underneath, and he drew her close to his side. He felt well built, definitely not the geeky scientist he said he was. There was an air of confidence and control around him. There was also something that Ada _didn't _feel.

_He's not even wearing kevlar. Fine. Pretend you're an invincible secret agent. Just don't come crying to me if you get shot in the gut._

Crow and Ada slowly made there way through the crowd of oncoming people, up the stairs that led to the entranceway. The entire time, Ada scanned the area with her eyes. She and Crow could blend, but not for long. She needed to spot the assassin before she spotted them.

"It would appear that I've got some competition," Crow said softly, without looking at her.

Ada glanced around. They were attracting stares from several groups of people, or more precisely, _Ada_ was attracting the stares from several _men._ Old and young alike shot a longful glance at the couple, much to the displeasure of their dates. Ada ignored them.

"I thought we weren't supposed to attract attention," Ada said lightly.

"That's not my problem," chuckled Crow. "It's you they're looking at."

They weaved through the fancy lobby of the theater, then placed their backs against a wall, waiting for Crow's guard. Crow seemed reluctant to release her from his hold, but Ada didn't mind. The closer she was to him, the more likely she'd see the assassin. At any rate, they had to wait for Ulrich, who was carrying more of their weapons. It wouldn't make any sense for her just to wander off. She continued her watch of the crowd, her mind tabulating what little she saw of the assassin in her previous encounter. No one fit the profile.

Ulrich joined them, toting the slim black case that held the holster and the grapple gun. They left the throngs of people and mingled with a smaller group, heading towards the box seats in the balcony. From what little Ada knew, these seats easily cost a couple hundred. It looked like Crow was pulling out all the stops in making his presence known.

They took their seats, which probably had the best view of the theater. Unfortunately, if Crow was wrong about the assassin using a sniper rifle, he would be an easy target. There were only two seats available: one for Crow, one for Ada. She could count about half a dozen spots that would make an assassination child's play.

She would watch their front: the stage and the general seating. Ulrich stood outside in the hallway like some oversized watchdog, making sure that no one would come from behind them.

After a brief wait, the show began. The lights dimmed, which only made Ada more restless. She couldn't exactly strap a pair of night vision goggles, so she settled for squinting in the low light. Never the biggest connoisseur of music, she didn't have much taste for the show. The bittersweet singing of lost love held no interest to her. Still, she forced herself to remain awake and alert instead of dozing off.

The first half of the show was over before Ada realized it. Intermission had come upon them with no sign of the assassin. She felt strangely relieved. Crow stood up, saying something about going to the lobby for refreshment. Maybe the assassin wasn't going to show after all.

That thought left Ada's head when the assassin attacked.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

During intermission, Crow suggested that they go down for a quick drink of something. Since Ada had to stay glued to his side, she was inclined to go as well. In a lobby off of the main foyer, there was a small bar open with refreshments. As he did back in the limo, Crow offered her a glass of champagne. Tired of the lack of action and his constant interest in her, she accepted. She figured as long as the assassin didn't show, she might as well kill a few brain cells.

Crow was saying something he thought no doubt was witty when Ada turned her head to drink from her tall glass, only half listening to what he said. In that instant her guard dropped, her senses not as quick as they should have been. Her only warning was a familiar flash of hair, only this time instead of red, it was jet black.

Acting on instinct alone, Ada dropped her glass, then grabbed Crow by the scruff of his tux; the assassin drew a gun from her coat at the same time. She hauled him head first over the mini bar just as the silenced shots rang out, splintering the wooden frame and shattering several bottles. The two of them fell in a tangled mass of limbs. Ada hit the ground first, Crow landing on top, yet breaking his fall before his weight hit her.

Despite the situation, he grinned, his face inches from hers.

Ada snarled, unable to hide her bruised pride, then unceremoniously shoved him off to the side. She got up and pressed her back to the bar, Crow following suite.

There was a brief moment of surprise from the bartenders, who hadn't yet registered the silenced shots, nor the shooter in front of them. Then, a panicked voice screamed a single word. "Gun!" Chaos ensued as the theater goers relaxing in the lobby began to scramble for the exits. Those too far away or too confused simply dropped to the floor or crawled under tables.

"You hit?" Ada asked Crow tersely, yet her voice was tinged with annoyance from how he landed.

"No, thanks to you," he replied, smoothing his collar and bowtie. "Capable hands indeed..."

Ada fished her Beretta out of her handbag. The bartenders, who had finally ducked below the bar, took one look and bolted. A few more shots rang out, clipping one of the fleeing men, but not fatally. His coworker had half a mind to help drag him to safety.

_Look like she's got an itchy finger._

From an overturned table to their side, Ulrich procured a small submachine gun from the case he was carrying. He stuck the gun around the table and squeezed off a burst blindly. The gun's chatter was deafening in the small room, mixing with the screams of the people cowering on the ground. More silenced pops, then a few holes cut into the wood. He ducked back again.

While the assassin was distracted, Ada popped up from behind the bar and fired, her compact Beretta barking even more loudly than Ulrich's gun. The assassin jerked and slid behind a decorated column, firing wildly. She put a few rounds into it for good measure.

Ulrich began to fire again, keeping the assassin in cover. His gun whittled the edges of the column away. Bits of plaster and stone, coupled with smoke from the gunshots, created a dry haze that permeated the room. When his gun clicked empty, the assassin returned fire. Ada fired back, but the assassin was still partly tucked behind the column. Her rounds hit the object while the assassin ducked back again. They were getting nowhere fast. They could be trading shots for the next half hour. Ada hunkered back down, pressing her shoulder to the bar.

"I say we have 6, maybe 7 minutes tops until the police begin to arrive," said Crow quickly. He had pulled a revolver out of nowhere, probably concealed in his coat. If Ada had thought he'd panic, she was wrong. He was acting as if though they weren't even getting shot at. "We need to make ourselves scarce before then. I believe our friend realizes this also. We must neutralize her before-" shots buried into the bar. "-she escapes."

_So he's seen his share of action. Good. That makes my job a lot easier._

Crow knew what he was doing, so he wasn't liable to get himself shot. Ada motioned to Ulrich, who was just reloading his gun.

"The case!"

He kicked the case across the carpet. Ada flipped it open and removed the tactical holster. The grapple gun was still in the right slot. The assassin was going to make a run for it any second, once she realized she couldn't match their firepower. Ada quickly formed a plan: give chase, keep her as far away from Crow as she could, then take her out. The grapple gun would make movement a little easier, plus the holster would help carry ammo.

There was a lengthy pause in the assassin's gunfire, a sign of her reload time. Ada slipped the nylon straps around her torso and cinched it snugly, the material of her dress wrinkling under the strain. The spare magazine from her handbag went in the slot underneath her right arm, beneath the grapple gun.

Ada began to hear the sirens outside. From behind her cover, Ada saw Ulrich stand up, taking careful aim. There would be only one reason why he was exposing himself like that: the assassin was making a break for it. He squeezed off a few rounds, but the look on his face confirmed that he missed the fleeing assassin.

"Watch him!" Ada barked at him as she vaulted over the now shredded bar with ease. "Make sure she doesn't double back."

She took off running, out of the lobby and into the hall, gun at the ready. She bladed herself against the door frame and peeked outside. The right side was clear, as was the left. She spotted the assassin, already at the end of the hall, fleeing towards the main foyer exit. Ada bolted after her.

More gunshots greeted Ada as she ran into the foyer. The assassin was hunkered down near the door, trying to pick her off as she entered. Ada rolled across the ground, landing behind part of the main staircase that lead to the second floor. She fired off a few rounds in retaliation. Her shots went wide, shattering the front glass doors. Outside the sirens grew louder.

The assassin took off again through the broken door with Ada in hot pursuit. Down the steps of the theater they ran, onto the city sidewalk. Most of the people that fled during the gunfight were gone. A few lingered, hovering outside of theater, perhaps debating whether they should help. The assassin shoved past them, as did Ada. They fled the other way when they saw their weapons. Ada didn't have courtesy on her mind as she roughly shoved another woman out of her way and onto the ground, almost tripping and falling herself.

Down the block, the assassin cut across traffic, receiving angry honks from cars as they slammed on their brakes. One almost mowed her down, stopping just in time to give her a love tap on the knees. The assassin fell splayed across its hood, stumbling as she pushed off and started sprinting again. It slowed her enough for Ada to catch up, being able to cross the flow of traffic without fear of getting hit from the already stopped traffic.

Ada couldn't shoot in the public eye, not without pinning a manhunt on herself. The assassin was likely to do something stupid, like seclude herself if Ada kept pursuit. She just had to keep the pressure on and not catch a bullet in the process.

The assassin cut through an alley. Ada pumped her arms harder, trying to close the distance. Years of athletic training was paying off; she wasn't even breathing hard yet. She was running on heels, yet with the grace of her step, she may as well have been wearing sneakers. Coupled with her long legs giving her a wide stride, she was certain she would catch the assassin.

50 feet down the alley, a fence blocked their way. Ada briefly remembered the chase in New York. The assassin jumped up and hastily crawled over it. Ada pulled out her grapple gun, lining up a shot on one of the buildings. She fired, the metal claw sailing out with a burst of compressed gas. The claw embedded itself into the brick. Retracting the line as she approached the fence, she used the tension to hoist herself up and over the fence. When she landed on the other side, she gave the gun a jerk, hoping the cable would release its hold. If not, she'd have to leave it behind. The claw jerked out from the brick, trickling along the ground as Ada retracted the electric winch under the muzzle, not even stopping in her chase.

The assassin must have sensed Ada getting closer, because she turned, her gun raised. Ada beat her to the draw, firing a single round. It went high, over her shoulder. The assassin ducked into a doorway, squeezing off a few wild rounds, then disappeared from sight. Before she could get away, Ada cleared the doorway. It was a dark stairwell, leading up. The assassin's footsteps were fading fast. Quickly, she swapped clips; she didn't want to suddenly run out.

Ada started up the stairs, keeping her Beretta out in front of her. She tried each door on every floor. They were locked, so the assassin could only have gone up. The gloom of the staircase was almost suffocating, Ada had to squint to make out the rest of the way. Her adrenaline was already high; now it was through the roof, anticipating an ambush. Wincing slightly at the hollow sound her heels made on the stairs, she continued up, clearing each corner.

Finally, the stairs ended, opening up into a larger room. Ada had no idea where she was. It looked like some half finished renovation. Three of the room's walls were gutted, only planks of wood ready to be covered by plaster or paneling. The fourth wall, the outer one, was finished, several tall windows overlooking the street below. Boxes were piled in short columns, ranging in various sizes and shapes. Sawhorses and tools lay cluttered everywhere.

With a gentle kick, she closed the door quietly, leaving it open only a crack. Ada wanted some warning in case the assassin tried to flee the way she came. She couldn't see the entire room, which left the possibility that there were other exits. If there were, she would have to sweep the room quickly as to-

-rustling to Ada's left. A dark shadow leaped out and speared her in the stomach. She fell backwards with the assassin on top of her. She lost grip of her Beretta, but not before reflexively squeezing the trigger twice. It went skidding across the hardwood floor. Fists began to beat at her face. She lifted her arms, trying to ward off the blows. Sparing just enough time, she delivered a quick jab to her gut, then shoved her off.

Ada tried to get back to her feet and to her gun at the same time, resulting in her trying to cross the floor on all floors, but the assassin recovered quickly. She grabbed Ada's arm and jerked her back, cracking her across the face with her fist. Stars swam in Ada's eyes. She got her arms up just as the assassin struck again. Blocking the strikes, Ada countered, two quick punches to the face and a kick to the leg. The assassin dropped to one knee.

Intending to drive her knee into her skull, Ada grabbed the assassin's shoulders. The assassin countered, circling her arms outward and breaking Ada's grip, then slamming her fist into her stomach. Losing her wind, Ada doubled over, giving the assassin an opening to crack her across the skull again.

Swooning, Ada fell back. The assassin clamored over her to get to the gun on the floor. Ada caught her ankle, tripping her, and she fell hard to the floor. She jumped onto her back, grabbing her arm with the intent to snap it at the elbow, but didn't expect the assassin's other hand to grab her by the hair and yank. Choosing to keep her scalp, Ada flipped forward, landing hard on her back. Blindly, she kicked, one white heel connecting with the assassin's temple when she tried to get up.

Both panting and groaning in pain, the two women rolled to their feet, stumbling slightly. For the first time, Ada got a good look at the assassin. She looked older than Ada by quite a few years, closer to forty. A lined face showed experience and stress. Her dark eyes glared at Ada, her mouth turned into a snarl. In New York, her hair was red, but now it was black, evidently from a hasty dye job. She was bleeding from a small cut on her temple, the result of Ada's kick.

_She must be out of ammo, otherwise she would have just popped me when I came in._

Ada didn't dare to look away from the other woman. She wiped her lip with the back of her hand, feeling the wet stickiness of blood, as well as the coppery taste in her mouth. Some of it had already speckled onto the collar and neckline of her dress, staining the teal silk like some kind of cancer. Already, she had a horrible headache, and it was only going to get worse.

The assassin struck with a punch, aiming for Ada's nose. She blocked, then parried the follow up combo. Blocking a quick elbow, she jabbed her fist into the assassin's gut, then drover her own elbow once, twice, into the assassin's face, finishing with a right hook that turned her head.

A backhand by the assassin caught her by surprise, as did the kick to her head that came after it. Reeling in pain, Ada fell back, then pulled the grapple gun from its holster. She fired, but clumsily with her left hand. The assassin twitched reflexively, but the claw went wide, rebounding off of something metal with a loud clang. The assassin grabbed the trailing cable and yanked it, pulling the gun out of Ada's hand.

The assassin darted close, swiping her hand across her midsection. In the next instant, Ada saw a glint of metal and heard the swish of cut clothing. She cried out in pain and surprise, clutching her side with her hand and jumping back. A long line of her dress was split, her flesh visible and trickling blood. A knife had materialized in the assassin's hand.

Again, the assassin lunged with the blade. Ada scooted back, trying to keep the deadly from cutting into her body again. Swipe after swipe came, each one too close for Ada's comfort. When she saw an opening, she took it. A careless swipe by the assassin allowed Ada to grab her wrist, then twist it down. Yelping in pain, the assassin dropped the knife. Ada wrenched her arm harder, and the assassin flipped over.

A leg kicked out, hitting the back of Ada's knee. She fell hard on her tail bone, her back arcing as a dull fire worked in the base of her spine. The assassin's boot lashed out again, heavy treads smacking her on the cheek. She rolled over in pain, expecting to spit out a few thousand dollars in dental work; luckily she didn't.

The stars returned in her eyes. Ada knew she had to get to her feet, but made it up to her hands and knees instead. Suddenly, she felt the assassin on her, and something around her neck jerked her head up and back. The pain and pressure were enormous, like a thin line of fire. She reached to her neck, feeling a metal wire.

-_fiber wire must've been hidden in her watch-_

Ada coughed. In a stroke of luck, the wire was over the high collar of her dress. The butterfly brooch was doing a remarkable job of protecting her. She could feel the strain the assassin was putting on her neck, almost cutting off her air completely. She tried to reach up and work her fingers under the wire, but the assassin drove her knee into her spine. Ada's fingers slipped, and the wire traveled higher, falling off the brooch and collar and onto her skin.

Whatever breath she could draw before vanished. Ada choked breathlessly; the wire felt red hot as it clamped off her neck's blood and air. Desperately, she grabbed the assassin's hands, trying to prevent her from sawing the wire and slitting her carotid and jugular. White spots began to form in her eyes; she was growing weaker.

-_think...think before you're dead-_

Her shifting knees hit something on the floor, something long, cold, and sticky. It was the knife the assassin dropped. Ada didn't want to let go of the assassin's hands, but was she out of options. She reached down blindly, the strangulation intensifying. She felt the cold metal, slicing a finger on the blade as she hastily grabbed it, then found the handle. Blindly, she thrust it upward, barely hearing the assassin scream in pain as it sunk into her shoulder.

Ada pulled the knife back, ready to stab again when the assassin let the wire around her neck go slack, allowing her take a sore, rasping breath. The assassin caught Ada's wrist before the crimson stained knife could plunge into her chest. Ada flailed, trying to pull free, but only resulted in setting the other woman off balance. Both of them fell forward, Ada twisting and landing on her back.

The assassin didn't let go of her vice grip on Ada's wrist. Using her weight, she began to push down on the knife, still in Ada's hand, towards her throat. Ada shoved back with all her might, the blade halting between them, quivering in the strain. The knife point lowered slightly, and Ada was certain that it would plunge into her. Miraculously, she summoned enough strength to hold it back, even push it further. But the assassin had the aid of gravity, and Ada's arms were already screaming with fatigue, her breath trapped in her lungs with effort. Any minute, she was going to lose what little strength she had left.

The woman writhed on top of Ada, delivering a rough knee to her ribs. Ada grunted, her strength wavering, the knife shaking closer. She tried to return the blow, but the assassin didn't seem fazed.

In some desperate twitch she turned her head. By divine luck, her Beretta was lying within reach. At the same time, the assassin noticed her line of sight and reached for it. One of their hands clawed at the other for control of the gun, while the other pushed for dominance of the knife. The blade between them began to dance even more wildly back and forth, each woman more focused on the gun.

The assassin's hand scraped Ada's away, closing around the gun.

-_that's it I'm dead-_

The door to the room burst open.

The assassin pointed the gun at the new target, squeezing off a round. The unknown figure dove for cover behind some boxes. It was too shadowy to get a clear ID, and Ada was hyped up on adrenaline. All she could make out were the broad shoulders of a man; she was too preoccupied with the now distracted woman.

Ada dropped the knife, which clattered off her bust and onto the floor, then wrenched her hand free from the distracted woman, driving it into her right eye. The assassin started, cupping her face. Ada bolted up with a flex of her abdominal muscles, head butting her square in the face. She got her hands on the gun, then pulled it free, her bloody hand loosing grip almost instantly. A mad scrabble ensued again.

Ada kicked, one white heel gouging into the assassin. She got to the gun, lifting it while in a half sitting, half laying position. The other woman sat up, a brief look of surprised pain turning into fury as she peered into the barrel of the gun. Ada pulled the trigger.

The round tore into the assassin's chest, exiting cleanly out the other side. She twitched after a spray of blood, the anger on her face relaxing, then fell back, motionless.

Ada got to her feet, the gun in one shaking hand, her other forcing her aching body to straighten. She kept the sights on the body of the assassin, but it didn't matter; she was dead.

-_oh shit-_

Ada cursed silently while trying to turn, stopping abruptly as some force latched onto her, twisting her gun arm up and putting her into a half-nelson. Whoever it was was strong, or maybe she was too weak. The arms were thick, definitely a man. Ada grunted in protest as she felt her right shoulder almost dislodge from the hold.

A cold edge pressed against her throat, another knife. Ada tipped her head back, feeling the back of her skull collide with a nose, then a grunt of pain from her attacker. The blade wavered from her throat.

Her luck continued when blood on her arm caused the assailant to lose hold of her. Ada broke free, the knife gently splicing a thin line in her collar, then managed to get her fist into the side of his face. He released her, turning away in surprise. She brought the gun up, finger tightening on the trigger, her mind working survival instincts. Eliminate the new target, get the hell out-

-her finger automatically relaxed when the figure turned towards her, holding one side of his face.

"Leon?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Hey Ada."

It was impossible, preposterous. Ada blinked hard, wishing that her eyes were wrong, that her brain was so rattled by the fight that she couldn't see straight, that instead of feeling nothing, she felt a bizarre mix of guilt and unfulfillment. Yet at the same time, she knew she could see fine, and that her emotions were registering correctly. Leon Kennedy, not standing 10 feet from her. His hand left the side of his face she whacked, a light red welt forming high on his cheek bone.

In his left hand he held a knife, the blade that had been at her throat. His words from Spain echoed in her head.

_...try using knives next time, works better for close encounters._

She'd have to start listening. Luck was the only thing that had freed her from his grip; he 'd had her cold. Any less lucky, she would have been lying on the floor, futilely trying to stop a severed jugular. Either that or Leon would have been twisting her into a pair of cuffs. And as much as she was into experimentation, she'd rather save it for another night.

He stood, the left side of his body bladed towards her slightly. Ada barely caught the movement out of sight at his right side; the gentle rise of his shoulder, the way he slowly cocked his head up. In a flash, she clasped the gun in both hands, training it directly on him.

"Don't!" she said harshly. He froze. "Nice and slow, Leon. Hands up."

Ada could see the gears working in his head. He wasn't just some dumb cop. He knew a hell of a lot of tricks, ones that she really didn't need to see. His pale blue eyes still showed that resolve she'd seen in Spain. She prayed that he would just listen and not do something stupid. She already felt guilt at clocking him and now sticking him up. Slowly, he lifted both hands, holding them just level with his head.

"Drop the knife, arms length."

Leon did as she asked, extending his arm to the side, then letting the blade clatter to the floor.

"Now the gun, by your fingers. Nice and slow."

Slowly once again, Leon reached down and unholstered his sidearm. He had tried to draw it without her noticing. He held it between his thumb and forefinger on the grip, as if it were something fetid, then dropped it in front of him. Ada motioned with her gun, then he softly kicked it away with the tip of his boot.

"Good boy."

Ada let out a slow, thick breath of relief, then licked her lips. Her lower one was still gushing, now trailing down her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, only to feel the blood trace down its path again. Her headache had blossomed into a full blown migraine, making even thinking a chore.

None of that mattered, though. She was in control. She was in control and he was going to do exactly what she said. She lowered the gun to her hip, still pointing it at Leon. It was too heavy to hold outstretched.

Leon took a step forward, "Ada-"

Up came the gun again in both of her hands. Leon's hands shot up partway, empty palms facing her.

"Stay back Leon..."

"Listen Ada," he began slowly, taking another step slowly towards her. "We can-"

The gun went off before Ada even realized she pulled the trigger. Leon started, head whipping back to see the splintered hole in one of the gutted walls level with his skull. Her heart hammered at her own recklessness. What was she thinking?

"Stay. Back," she breathed, more harshly than she wanted to. She didn't want him to provoke her instincts again. Instead of dropping the gun to her hip again, she kept it level. Yeah, the gun felt heavy, but she didn't want him to try anything funny just because she got too relaxed. Leon took a few steps back, hands still half raised.

She had to get out, but first, he had to answer a few questions.

"How did you find me?"

Leon shrugged. "Heard gunshots, just happened to bump into you."

Ada pursed her lips together tightly. "Very funny. Answer the question."

Six years ago, she'd never even heard of Leon S. Kennedy. They just happened to run into each other. Six years later, their respective jobs brought them together. Now, 3 weeks after that, they were drawn together again. At this exponential rate, Ada feared she would be seeing more of Leon than she would like. Already, that familiar gnawing feeling was working into her stomach, and it wasn't from the assassin's blows.

Leon paused before answering. "Your first mistake was in Spain. It didn't take us too long to track the jet ski."

Big deal, he found where it was bought. That didn't plant a homing beacon on her for Leon to casually follow.

"We traced your credit records across Europe. It was tricky, but with a little help, we managed to spot a pattern."

_My account? Shit, I had no idea that it could be traced like that._

So what? She could get Crow to launder the account. Even if she had to wipe it clean, she still had enough cash that Leon didn't know about. It was a close call, probably even due to negligence on her part, but that was it. Easily fixed.

Leon nodded towards the assassin's corpse. "Friend of yours?"

Ada gave a hollow laugh, then broke into a fit of coughing. The fiber wire had done a number on her neck, and now it was beginning to swell. She figured she might start wheezing if she didn't get it treated soon. Instinctively, she reached up and adjusted her collar, feeling both fresh and dried blood on the once spotless fabric.

"No," she said, indicating to the assassin. "Just a thorn that got pulled."

"Like that guy in New York?"

"I don't know what you mean," she said, trying to smile charmingly, then realized that her teeth were probably stained crimson.

"A man was found shot to death in a New York apartment. Cops didn't find him until 4 days later. We took the liberty of checking his cash flow. He had a similar account set up in Switzerland. Just figured it might be one of your coworkers or something..."

Ada let out a small sigh of relief. Nothing she didn't already know. "I'm afraid you have our expired friend here to thank for that. I just happened to stumble on the scene."

Leon shrugged. "Whatever you say..."

A small flame of anger brewed in Ada. Why wouldn't he believe her? Then again, why should she even care? She had all the information she needed from him. Fix the account, and she'd disappear again, just like that. Still...the gnawing in her gut was intensifying. Just seeing him again brought back that empty feeling of longing. They both had a connection with each other, that four letter word that Ada despised: love. Of course she should care what he thought of her.

She wasn't sure what was making her feel like swooning. It was either the blows to the head and the blood loss, or it was Leon. Ada had taken a lot more punishment and walked away in the past. That's exactly what she was going to do this time. She took a step in the direction of the door, but so did Leon. The distance between them remained constant.

Ada swallowed hard again. "What are you doing?"

"Ada, I chased halfway across the world for the last three weeks looking for you," he sighed tiredly. "If you think I'm just going to let you go, guess again."

The anger flamed again. Why was he being so difficult? If he'd just listen he wouldn't get hurt. Slowly though, the anger was replaced by shame.

She lowered her gun to her hip. It was getting unbearably heavy. She cast her eyes down, looking at the patch of floor between them. Suddenly, she just didn't care anymore. She felt ashamed of herself. He could try and attack her, and she wouldn't stop him. She deserved it, after all the things she did to him in the past. She hated him for bringing out this uncontrollable feeling in her, the feeling that screwed with her life every time she thought of him. At the same time, she just wanted him even more.

Ada had to get it off her chest. A few words wouldn't kill either of them. She couldn't bear to just leave him again without something. It was just them, no organization listening in.

"Leon...I-"

-the door to the room exploded. A shower of splinters erupted outward, raining down over the two of them, though not even close to being deadly. Her ears ringing, Ada spun towards the noise, gun raised, now not feeling the least bit tired from the fight; her teeth bared in the adrenaline rush.

Dark shapes were pouring in through the smoke of the explosion, fanning out along the wall and behind boxes. They were men, dressed in all black with ski masks obscuring their faces, and as Ada saw tiny red dots light up, she realized they were all armed with rifles. Her gun darted back and forth, switching to different targets, but she couldn't watch them all.

_Leon's friends? But..._

She shot him a quick look. He was frozen, hands still up, his chest speckled in the red dots of the laser sights of the gunmen. He was just as much a target as she was. Any minute, they would open up, riddling them with holes. They were going to die.

"Stand down, Wong," said a crisp voice from the rear of the pack. The owner stepped forward. He was the only one without a rifle or a ski mask. "We're on your side."

"What's going on?" she asked, not dropping her guard. She didn't recognize the speaker.

"Orders from Wesker," he replied coolly. "He believed you and Mr. Crow were going to be targeted tonight, so he sent us to trail you."

Wesker sent a dozen heavily armed men to watch their backs? Bullshit. Every one of them either had an H & K G-36c or UMP, plus tactical vests and equipment. Even for the threat of the assassin, it was overkill. She retracted her gun, pointing it at the ceiling cautiously.

"The assassin has already been neutralized," she reported. "Crow is safe."

The captain nodded. "Good."

He looked to Leon, and Ada felt a strange chill run down her aching back.

"Agent Kennedy from the Government Security Agency?" he asked.

"Yeah," Leon said slowly after a slight pause.

"Wong, please eliminate him."

Ada's throat went tight, and this time, it wasn't from the swelling. Eliminate him? Eliminate Leon? No...

"What?" she asked, noticing the tremble in her voice. Maybe she was too beat up to hear correctly.

"I said, please eliminate him. Kill him."

"But," she protested. "He's unarmed, he's not a threat!"

"Wong, Kennedy is a survivor of Raccoon City. He's aware of our existence, and now he has also heard several key names. Eliminate him."

"If we murder a government agent, the entire country is going to come down on us!" she protested again.

"If we don't kill him, they'll just have more information to work against us," the captain replied coldly. "I'm not going to order you again."

"But..." Ada sputtered, trying to think of some way, any way to get out of this. "Wait! We can take him prisoner-"

"Wong..."

"He has valuable intel. We can use him to gain information on the government's movement-"

"Wong..."

"He'll be my responsibility," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "If anything happens-"

"_Wong!_"

Ada started, then fell silent. The captain folded his hands across themselves, his sidearm in his right hand. She could see that his safety was off, the tiny red painted dot almost winking menacingly at her. It suddenly all clicked. Maybe Wesker did send them to watch Crow's back. That was the only reason they were there. No one could have predicted that Leon would show up. When he appeared, they contacted Wesker, and-

_Damn you Wesker...Goddamn you to hell!_

It was an infallible way of finally discovering just how trustworthy she was. All this time, she'd dipped her hand to stir the organization's pot, some ways good, some ways bad, always to her favor. Wesker had done more than voice his suspicion of her on several occasions. She actually enjoyed the game of cat and mouse. Now, Wesker had her in a corner, and nothing was fun about it. There were only two ways out of this: kill Leon, or be killed herself.

She wanted to shake her head, to reject even the concept. She couldn't do it, not after the connection that formed between them, never in a million years. But the eyes of the captain were staring straight into hers, watching her every move, or rather, lack thereof. She swallowed hard, breaking eye contact, then submissively aimed her gun.

At Leon.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Ada panted lightly, a thin glaze of sweat forming on her forehead. The small cut above her plucked eyebrow wasn't draining any blood into her eye, at least not yet. Instead, it trickled down the side of her face like a crimson tear. Her bruising throat was making it difficult to breathe. The swelling had crept into her trachea; any more and she would be wheezing. Time seemed to be moving at a snail's pace.

_Calm down...calm down...stay calm and collected at all times...you stupid bitch, don't let this happen again..._

Her mind repeated this over and over again, but she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, her pulse was rising and more adrenaline was pumping into her body. Just like it did in the bowels of the underground Raccoon lab, the last time a situation this dire occurred. The least she could do was keep her outward appearance set; it would put up the illusion that she was still in control. But that wouldn't do her any good. Sometimes, appearances weren't everything. If she wasn't calm and collected on the inside, things would begin to spiral _out_ of control.

The Beretta PX4 in her right hand felt like a lead brick, safety off. Her arm was outstretched full length, motionless, but aching with fatigue. Her left was draped to her side, sorer than all hell from the fight. The gun had a 17 round magazine. She had used 5 shots in the previous fight. Plenty of ammo left. But plenty of ammo for what? Did Leon deserve the cold 9mm round waiting in the chamber, or the other 11 in the magazine?

_Hardly._

Ada's usually rock solid concentration began to deteriorate further. Her blinking increased, the perfect curve of her lashes dancing wildly over her almond shaped eyes. She wanted to look to her left, to hope that the wall of automatic rifles and submachine guns weren't pointed at her. But even looking in her position would only cast more suspicion to the growing heap already on her. She forced her eyes into Leon's instead, knowing very well that she herself was at gunpoint. The shoulder harness wrapped around her body felt three sizes too small suddenly. Why had she fastened it so tight? It wasn't so bad an hour ago. Her aching left hand wanted to creep up and undo the fastening.

_Think...think dammit! Stop wasting time!_

Every second her chances were slimming. If she was going to act, the time was now. Which choice was she going to make?

"_Can you really throw it all away?_" asked the cool, calculating agent in Ada Wong. "_The objective that you've fought tooth and nail for?_"

Her conscience presented the logical choice to the question: no, of course not. The last 6 years could not be wasted at any cost. Especially for something as fickle as an emotion. For all that work to go to waste would not only be stupid, it would be insane.

"_But what is it you want more?_" retorted the woman in Ada Wong.

She wanted him. Desperately. Damn her objectives, damn the organization. It was bad luck that things had played out the way they did, plain and simple bad luck. They were on opposite sides. She did everything to keep him away, but fate always seemed to draw them together again.

"_No, it's not fate,_" said the woman. "_It's you. You're the reason why. Are you really going to let him die because of that?_"

The two sides of Ada's mind clashed back and forth. The calculating agent had the upper hand, but the woman was strong. Ada still stood frozen with the gun outstretched in her hand. It gave a small shake, then steadied, still hovering on his breast, directly over his heart.

"Wong, what are you waiting for?" the captain asked.

There was a soft set of clicks and the creaking sound of fabric as positions in the gunmen changed. The only reason they would be moving would be if they were acquiring a new target. The only other people in the room was the dead assassin to her right, and Leon in front of her. Some of the red dots speckled on him disappeared. Ada didn't have to guess where they went; she was the new target.

_How many are there? What about their positions? If they're clustered right, I might have a chance._

"_I don't think so, sweetheart,_" the agent sneered, "_The surroundings are bad. You might have cover, but you can't see them all at once. Your outgunned and outnumbered. They'll be all over you."_

She was right, of course. The room was stacked with various boxes and other bits of clutter. Perfect for cover from bullets, but the gunmen had strength in numbers. If she tried anything, she would get blown away.

"She's _wrong,_" snapped the woman, referring to the agent. "_You have the skill to pull it off._"

Yet another counterexample. Her mind demanded an answer.

The agent: "_A simple squeeze of the trigger, and you're on your way to your goal. Just a minor inconvenience._"

True. Why should she care? All that mattered was her end goal. All the time she had spent working to achieve it would go down the drain, all because of him. She would be doing herself a favor; one less distraction to worry about in the future. With Leon out of the way, life would be so much easier.

The woman: "_A simple squeeze of the trigger, and you destroy one of the very few things that kept you going this whole time. Could you really live with yourself afterwards? May as well put the gun to your own head, you cold hearted bitch._"

Also true. He was what kept her human all this time. But so what if the woman was right? Then they would both die anyway. As soon as she acted, he would be gunned down. If he was lucky, they would all turn to her first, but even that wouldn't matter; he was unarmed.

"_But he would die knowing what you had was real,_" the woman said softly in her head.

Ada swallowed hard, already dreading the decision she made. It wasn't going to be easy for her.

_So this is it...Maybe, just maybe, there's an angel on my shoulder._

Ada breathed deeply, letting the cool air fill her lungs. The dust floating in it tickled her throat, but she maintained herself. She closed her eyes and felt her skin cool. Her heart was still beating quickly, but controllably. The gun gave one final tiny twitch, then was steady again. Ada opened her eyes, back in control. Time resumed its normal flow.

Her hand gripped tighter on the gun, and she released her breath, cocking the hammer back with her thumb...

...then turned and pulled the trigger.

The captain's head whipped back as a neat hole punctured the center of his forehead, a cloud of gore spraying from the back of his skull as the bullet passed through. His body leaned back, then tumbled and fell to the floor.

The gunmen opened fire as soon as Ada's report rang out. At the same time, what felt like a small truck nailed her from the side. She felt arms encircle her waist, gripping her in a tight hold. It was Leon, barreling into, pushing her out of the way of the bullets. Together, they spilled behind a cluster of crates. Bullets whizzed and cracked into the wood.

Side by side, they huddled close, trying to keep themselves out of the deadly rain. In such a cramped space, Ada was pressed right up against him, sending a flutter through her body despite the burning adrenaline. Her faces was inches from his.

"Why?" he called over the deafening gunfire.

"Because I couldn't do it!" she cried, looking with pleading eyes into his. She had to be quick, it would all end in seconds. "Leon, I could never kill you! God, I'm so sorry!"

She clung tight to him. It didn't matter if she wouldn't voluntarily kill him. He was as good as dead anyway. As soon as the organization's soldiers closed in on them, they would both die in a hail of bullets.

But she still had her gun. It wouldn't do any good to even try to fight back against that many, but she'd be dammed if-.

-an unseen door tucked behind the bend in the room was kicked open. A small object was pitched in, which detonated in a blinding flash. More shapes charged into the room. More gunmen, but this time, they were different. They looked like cops, wearing body armor and wielding heavy firepower.

The chaos intensified as the organization's soldiers began to dive for cover. An all out battle ensued, with Leon and Ada stuck in the middle of it. A stray bullet passed through the weakened crate they were hunkered behind, sending sharp splinters into Ada's bare shoulder. Somehow, Leon managed to drag her across a few feet of exposed floor, behind a more secure support pillar.

Ada felt him pull her to his feet; she hardly knew what was going on. Even for her trained mind, things were moving too fast, out of her control after the flashbang went off. A shot tore a chunk out of the pillar. Instinctively, she tucked closer into Leon. Her internal alarms went off. She spun like a dancer, still in the shadow of the pillar, then fired a few rounds into a soldier trying to flank. She pirouetted back into his arms as more shots returned.

"This whole time, you knew they were coming?" Ada asked stupidly. Of course he knew. It was his plan.

Leon only nodded.

Ada felt as if her heart was going to break. He went after her, at the risk of his own life. He didn't even bat an eye when she pointed her gun at him. So ready to die, and yet now, up close, his eyes said otherwise. He was just like her, screwed over by his job.

Everything around them seemed to turn quiet. Automatic gunfire from a submachine gun sounded like an insect's clicking. A shotgun blast was only a whisper, the resounding pump of a reload only a flutter. Panicked shouts and commands simply went silent. Her leg coiled around his hip, in reality trying to compress her body to avoid gunfire, but she didn't care. It felt as if they were in their own world. He was so close, just like in her dream. She desperately wanted to reach up and trace the lines of his chest, just as she'd done in her sleep.

His right hand was encircled around the small of her back. How she wished that it would creep even lower. His left hand though...Ada felt pressure on her right wrist, her arm that was holding the gun. His hand was clamped like a vice on her arm.

_He's not going to let me go..._

Leon had played his part. The organization was caught by surprise. None of them were stupid enough to surrender; they were going to get slaughtered. All he had to do was hold her, and she would be caught. She couldn't do anything to get away. If she fired on Leon's friends, she was dead, and she didn't want to hurt Leon anymore. Desperately, she appealed to the agent and the woman inside her. Both were silent.

She wanted to be with Leon. At the same time, she didn't want to be apprehended. Given the situation, there was no way she could have both. She had to get away. A plan was already formed in her head, though it made her want to throw up. But there was no choice.

Leon was caught off guard when she suddenly leaned forward and kissed him deeply. She worked her lips into a tight hold on his.

Damn did he taste good.

_Let go Leon...please, let go..._

She needed him to release his hold on her wrist. That was all she needed. If he could just let go, it would be easier for her. Everything else would be left to luck.

_Let go..._

Leon returned her kiss, but neither of his hands moved. Ada squeezed her eyes shut, then rammed her left fist into his unsuspecting gut, silently begging his forgiveness in her head. He broke from their kiss violently, coughing hard, sending a spray of spit across her cheek. His grip on her arm slackened, enough for her to jerk herself free, then sprint away into the volley of gunfire.

The grapple gun still lay on the floor from were it was pulled from her hands. Not bothering to stay low, Ada bolted towards it, managing to scoop it up while keeping her momentum, then began to retract the cable, prepping it for another shot. She forced her beaten body to fly at full speed towards the windows along the wall. All the while, she kept pulling the trigger of her Beretta in the general direction of the organization's soldiers. She didn't care if her shots went wild. The cops would take the rest out. As she neared the windows, she aimed her gun at one, firing the last two rounds into it, then chucked the empty weapon aside.

Ada hurled herself into the window. She felt several searing pains as the glass cut her as it broke. She spread her arms like a bird, her dress flapping like a tail. She pointed the grapple gun and fired. By some stroke of luck, the claw hit something on the building across the street and stuck. The cable went tight, and she swung in an arc high above the street, sailing into another window on the opposite building.

Blinded in even more pain, she smashed through the window, more lacerations slicing her dress and skin. A wet crunch sounded as she landed on her shoulder, sending her into an awkward roll over the shards of glass. She cried out; tiny pinpricks of fire covered her, but those paled in comparison to her left shoulder. It felt as if though it was set ablaze, stuck out at an odd angle.

_Dislocation..._

Ada bit her lower lip, huddling into a ball, then forced her left arm between her legs. She pinched her wrist between her knees, then straightened herself, pulling on her arm. She fought off another agonized scream as her shoulder popped back into its socket with a crack.

_...have to...keep moving..._

The gunshots were still audible. She had a minute, tops, before the government was on her again. Ada staggered to her feet. A dingy desk... a computer... it was some unknown office; she really didn't care. She located the door, then pushed through, her right hand cradling her throbbing shoulder...Stairs...

Three quarters of the way down, one of her high heels snapped. Caught off guard, Ada's leg buckled, sending her tumbling down the rest of the flight. Her head cracked against the floor at the base. Trying desperately to shake the stars, she somehow got back to her feet, then staggered to a door. It led to an alley.

She almost fell again at the small step that followed the threshold, but managed to stay vertical. Halfway down the alley, she ran out of steam. She simply stopped, breathing heavily; suddenly unable to get enough oxygen through her swelling throat. Her eyes felt heavy, and the world was beginning to spin. She had lost too much blood, her body too damaged to go on. Her legs shook, ready to collapse.

At that moment, a familiar black limousine passed by, screeching to a halt. Crow bounded out of it, looking worried and tense. Ada collapsed just as he reached her, falling into his arms instead of the cold, dirty pavement.

"Ada! Are you alright?"

Her only response was a weak groan. Quickly, he half carried, half dragged her to the limo, then pulled her inside, laying her down on the seat cushions. The familiar cold leather was distant to her. She felt herself laying partially on something: it was a bundle of cloth. Her shawl.

_Did I leave it in the limo when we arrived at the theater?...No I was sure I brought it in, it was part of my attire...but appearances weren't everything. Had he bothered to pick it up after the gunfight?_

She felt Crow's hands unfastening the holster she wore. He lightly slid it down her arms, then stripped it from her body.

"My shoulder..." she gasped, "my shoulder..."

"You're okay, Ada" he soothed over her moans. "You're safe now."

He dabbed at her face with something that stung her cuts. She tried to turn away from it, but his hands followed. She grunted in frustration, thrashing a little rougher, which only resulted in a stab of pain from her shoulder. Why couldn't he just let her rest? He was always fawning over her. Didn't he have anything better to do?

His hands gently pressed on her arms. "Hold still. Everything is alright. You're just a little delirious from blood loss." His hand pressed to her face, his thumb peeling her eyelid up. "You hit your head, didn't you? You might have a concussion."

_Bullshit...I'm fine...I just need a minute to rest..._

The dabbing returned. Her blurring vision caught sight of her arm, stained red with blood. The cut on her side had dribbled blood down the length of her dress. Crow hurriedly pressed a wad of bandages to it, then guided her hands over it.

"Keep pressure on it for a bit, it doesn't seem to be too bad."

Weakly, Ada held the bandages over the wound. The roof of the interior kept fading in and out. The light was on, but it only served to make her eyes squint. Crow was on his knees next to her, busying himself with a first aid kit. Were they moving? The limo was so quiet, it was hard to hear the engine, let alone feel the actual movement.

Ada groaned softly, turning her head on the seat. She could just make out what he was doing. He was drawing a clear liquid into a small syringe.

"No..." she protested weakly.

He was going to kill her. It was over. Word got out about her betrayal. Now she was helpless, and Crow himself was going to give her a quick end. At least it would be quick, unless he was going to inject her with something that would make her suffer.

_God, not like this. Not after so long. Not after Leon..._

She tried to get up, but her body failed her. She couldn't so much as roll over or lift her head. There was so much she hadn't accomplished yet. Her goals were unmet. There was no way she was going to let it end like this. Despite her will, her body was refusing its orders.

"No..._please..._" she whispered.

Crow brought the syringe around. Ada tried to grab his arm to stop him from simply snuffing out her life. Gently, he plucked her feeble grasp off and returned it to the bandages at her side. All of her attempts thwarted, she shook her head furiously, denying the inevitable. Her eyes began to brim with genuine tears for the first time in a long time.

"Ada," he said softly, "Settle down. I told you everything is alright."

The needle was a tiny prick of fire on her neck, just above the line of bruising. A soft warmth began to spread through her body. Slowly, an invisible force was guiding her body into a state of relaxation. The last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered shut was Crow's face, his hand gently brushing her bangs away.

Then, she felt nothing.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Crow leaned back in the comfortable chair, taking in the large monitor that spanned the entire wall. Numerous windows were open, displaying a wealth of information: charts, funds, data, and maps. It all represented a fraction of information the organization had gathered in the past few years. From the controls on either arm of the chair, he began to enter in prompts, copying and backing the data. The last few steps were beginning to take place.

As the information ran through its cycles, he opened a new window. In under a second, he punched in a sequence of numbers on the keypad by his left hand, one of the many numbers he'd memorized. The computer registered a secure connection, then the channel opened. Ada Wong appeared in the new window from the chest up.

_Beautiful as always..._

She'd healed remarkably well. The only marks remaining on her were the stitches on her temple. She removed the sling a week ago. Despite the blemishes, she was still perfect.

"Hello Ada," he said pleasantly. "I trust you are nearly recovered?"

She grinned that omnipresent smile of confidence. "Of course."

He smiled back, finally glad that he could be free to open a visual connection with her. He was sick of merely calling her. It was much more pleasing to look at her. Her smile alone was almost hypnotic. Yet, all the same, there was something different about it, like a shadow of wariness in her eyes. Crow was smart enough to realize that she still didn't fully trust him.

But why should she? He was just the one who signed her checks. The organization wasn't one built on trust anyway. That would pass. Ada would soon trust him more than anyone on the planet. He had to be patient; things would fall into place if he let them run their courses.

"Glad to hear it. It took some work, but your account has been fully laundered. I don't think we'll be hearing from your American friends anytime soon. As far as Wesker goes, I've ordered an investigation. Nothing has turned up as of yet."

Crow cast his eyes down. The entire team had been slaughtered, and he'd found her on the verge of unconsciousness. He was probably imagining it, but there was something that wasn't sitting right about that evening in LA; the way she acted when he tried to sedate her was...interesting to say the least. He shook it off; he didn't want to think of Ada when she was in such a distressed state. And besides, sometimes he was too cautious for his own good.

He dug a small chip out of his vest pocket, then stuck it into a port. A few keystrokes later, the information transmitted to Ada's PDA.

"I've just sent you your new orders. Contact me when you've completed them."

Ada nodded.

"Oh, and Ada?" he added, "do be careful. I'd hate to have to come and rescue you again."

She laughed, intoxicating as always. Crow looked down again, spying the small LCD screen that also bore her picture on the armrest. He gently traced his finger along the line of her jaw, wishing that he felt her warm skin instead of the smooth electronic surface. Her hand holding the device moved, jarring her face away from his touch.

_Just nature's way of teasing me._

He terminated the connection. The computers continued their jobs. Behind him, the door to the room opened, casting a thin sliver of light in the darkness. A casual glance revealed that it was only Sadie, his...close...personal assistant. Crow allowed himself a small smile. How she would have reacted had she walked in on their conversation. Sadie didn't seem to hold Ada in very high regard. She nearly glared daggers at her when they met on his jet in Spain.

She approached behind him, running her hands down his chest, then crooned near his neck. Her bright blond hair was scented in his very favorite perfume, spilling down his chest. She was the ideal assistant, loyal and competent, not to mention pleasing to look at. The woman could do a lot more than filing and paperwork. She had the most extraordinary hands; now more than evident since she entered the room.

"The rest are getting anxious," she said softly in his ear, then gave it a playful nibble.

"Hmm...tell them I will be with them momentarily," he replied, a bit distracted by what he was doing. "Please have everything ready when I get there, darling."

Sadie left with only a nod of assent. Alone, Crow finished his tasks. He prompted the computer to compress and store the files in a single account. He had access to the entire network, so it didn't take him more than a minute.

He got up from the control chair, cracking the joint of his middle finger. His black blazer was hung neatly on a chair near the door. Instead of putting it on, he reached below it, procuring a holster. Inside was his custom Korth revolver, a limited .38 special that was only released in order of hundreds. All six cylinders were loaded.

He slipped the holster on under his arm, then donned his blazer. Outside of the computer room, the bright lights were harsh, causing him to squint until his eyes had readjusted. He seemed to take part of the room's shadow with him, dressed all in black.

Crow sighed, irritated. As much as it was his to control, the rest of the organization was bothersome to deal with. He despised meeting with them. All they cared about was money and power. Never once did they look beyond their individual goals.

_Especially that damned Olivia. I swear to God, that woman..._

But today was different. Today he actually didn't mind going to yet another meeting.

A few turns down the hall, and he was at the double doors to the conference room. He pushed through them. The room was already quiet, since no one was exactly in a chatting mood. They never were.

The room was dominated by the polished oak table, oval in shape. Around it sat thirteen cushy office chairs. Three of them were empty: one at the head, then two near the opposite side. The one at the head was Crow's. The other two belonged to Smith and Grant. Crow couldn't say he was going to be sorry that they were gone. Grant was a bloody coward, and Smith a backstabber.

"I do apologize for the wait," he drawled as he walked around the table and sat down at the head, "but I had to take care of a few quick things."

To his right, Olivia gave him a narrow look. Describing her as paranoid was an understatement. She had been carefully watching Sadie in the corner preparing refreshments, every once in a while stealing glances at the others, then to the exit in the room. Her hands were folded to her chin, thumbs methodically tapping. Always fretting, always concerned about non-existent planning behind her back, Olivia had no qualms about doing anything to stay alive. Nothing was more evident when she sacrificed her driver to escape when the assassin took a shot at her.

_No matter, she probably won't live to see fifty if she continues as she is. Not to mention all that worrying is doing nothing for her looks._

Olivia was a woman of forty, with defined lines on her face. Her dirty blond hair already had a few gray strands in it.

"Now, on to business. This latest, crisis, if you could call it that, has been resolved. Though we don't know the instigator, we can be fairly certain we won't hear from them again. Agent Wong successfully eliminated the threat several weeks ago, and there's been no follow up attack."

"Oh really?" snorted Olivia. "I assume the rest of us are just supposed to take your word for it?"

She stabbed a finger in the direction of the figure at the other end of the table: Wesker.

"All of us know that ever since we allowed him, that _thing_, into the inner circle, things have been to go downhill! We all know he was the one behind this, and yet you turn a blind eye!"

Crow sighed. "Olivia, please mind your tone, and I would prefer that you wouldn't refer to Albert as a thing-"

"Do you have any idea how far this set us back?!" she screeched. "If we believe you and really do have no idea who the fuck attacked us, then we have to start all over! We have to sever all of our finances and operations! We have to turn invisible again, something that hasn't happened for _twenty years_! All because you refuse to take care of the source!"

There was a murmur of assent among the other members. For the first time, they all seem to agree with her. Crow was impressed by her sudden fire. Irritated, but impressed all the same.

"We took a vote, and it's unanimous," she hissed. "Wesker goes, or we go."

Crow laughed. "_You_ go?"

Olivia nodded. "We don't need you to finish our plans. It might take a little longer, but it'd still be faster than the pace we're moving now. Better than winding up dead."

This time, it was Wesker's turn to laugh.

"My my, Crow," he chortled. "Whatever will you do? It seems that everyone is against us both."

Crow leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I guess I should apologize. I haven't been a very good leader as of late. I am very sorry that all of you think that. I was sure that admitting Albert into our group would be productive. In fact, with the exception of several cases as you pointed out, my dear Olivia, our organization has thrived since he joined. With the information from Umbrella he brought, our plans were pushed far further than I'd ever thought. Perhaps I _have_ become too trusting of him."

He leaned forward in his chair. "Tell me, Albert. What do you think of these accusations towards you? Should I have any reason to believe you have become...untrustworthy?"

Wesker smiled a wide, shark-like smile. His sunglasses gave nothing. "No, of course not. I've had nothing but the organization's best interests in my actions."

Crow leaned back in his chair, seemingly satisfied with his response. As if on cue, the door opened. Ulrich strode in with a briefcase. He couldn't help smiling a little as he stood along the length of the table.

"True or not, I have no choice but to investigate further into this matter. I hope it doesn't prove to be a problem for you Albert." His toned brightened further. "In the meantime, I have a solution in which I think everyone can benefit. My dear Olivia, I believe you stated it best."

Olivia gave him a mocking sneer. "And that was...?"

Crow grinned, a cold smile that spread ear to ear.

"We should sever all existing ties."

With that, Ulrich lifted the briefcase. There was a barely audible hiss of compressed gas, and the paneling fell away. He now held the frame of a compact Colt submachine gun.

Paranoid Olivia was the first to comprehend was about to happen. Her eyes bulged in their sockets.

"Oh God..."

Ulrich tucked the gun under his arm and opened fire, spraying one side of the table with gunfire. The members' blood splattered over the spotless table. Most fell slumped forward over the table, only to slide off or stick. Others fell over, knocking their chairs over, the padding shredded away. Ulrich repositioned in a single second, then strafed the other side of the table.

Olivia was lucky enough to get to her feet and bolt to the door. True to her nature, she shoved another fleeing member behind her, into the path of Ulrich's fire. She didn't anticipate Crow to be armed, though. He pulled his revolver, cocked the custom single-action hammer back and put a .38 slug into her back, all from the comfort of his seat. He was certain he never felt anything more satisfying than watching that bitch slump to the floor.

The slaughter was over in less than five seconds. Everyone in the room was dead.

Almost everyone.

Wesker casually stood up from his end of the table, taking in the motionless bodies streaming blood with a slow pan of his head.

"Efficient as always, Crow."

Crow fiddled with the hammer on his gun, then replaced it in his holster.

"I never was one for drama, Albert." He stood, smoothed the lapel on his blazer, then turned to his guard. "Thank you Ulrich. Please bring our ride around, if you could."

Ulrich nodded, then left, toting the gun over his shoulder. Crow and Wesker walked around to meet alongside the table.

"What news from our friends at S?" Crow asked him.

"Not much. They've begun work on the Plagas, but it's too early to get results." He smirked. "They want access to U.M.F-103."

"Well, I don't think we'll be doing _that_ anytime soon," Crow replied, laughing. "Do they take us for fools?"

"Probably, but they claim that they need more references to make progress."

"I suppose we could give them something, just to keep them interested. I'll have a chat with them about it, though we owe them nothing."

"There is another matter-"

-Wesker jerked his head to the side of the room like a hawk, falling silent. Crow heard it too: a small flutter of sound. He strode around the table, spotting the noise immediately.

It was Sadie. She was clutching her side, where two small holes oozed blood between her fingers. When Crow pulled his revolver again, she whimpered and tried to prop herself up to crawl away. She made it an inch before the pain stopped her. All she could do was look at him with a pleading, pathetic face.

Crow shook his head, almost sadly. "Dear, dear, Sadie...I'm so sorry it's come to this. Please don't take it personally. Business is business."

He squatted next to her and brushed a stray strand of shimmery blond hair away from her face, then coiled his arm around her small waist, lifting her up. He smiled softly into her streaming eyes.

"It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?"

She didn't have an answer for him. It was a pity; she truly was a beautiful woman. Crow puled her close, giving her one last kiss. He put the gun between them, to her breast, then pulled the trigger. She went limp immediately, without a sound after the harsh gunshot. Gently, he laid her back down, then closed her eyes.

He stood back up, holstering the smoking revolver.

"Shall we go, Albert?" he asked, gesturing to the door. "This scene doesn't suit us."

Wesker nodded as he joined Crow at the door. "As I was saying, there is another matter we need to discuss. What do you plan on doing about Ada?"

Crow shrugged. "What about her?"

"She might just be an operative, but she's smart. Too smart, in my opinion. We'd be better off without the distraction."

"I don't foresee any problem," Crow said readily.

Wesker's brow furrowed behind his shades. No doubt his eyes were narrowing in suspicion.

"Ada was aware of the S assassin because you sent her after Smith. Did you intend to make our plans more complicated, or did it just...happen?"

"Smith's disappearance was not predicted," Crow replied smoothly. "There was too much at stake if he got away with what he knew. Ada is the best we have, and she just happened to be near his last location. He needed to die, so I merely optimized. As luck would have it, the assassin got to him first."

Ada's interaction that night almost ruined their plans. She was smart enough to recognize what was happening as soon as she saw it. Crow saw that the only solution was to eliminate the assassin, then deal with the organization himself. It seemed that S wasn't too happy that they killed off one of their agents; Wesker foresaw that and voted to kill Ada instead. Crow couldn't have that.

What little Crow saw of Wesker's face didn't change. Crow gave a slight roll of his eyes.

"If anything happens, Albert, I will gladly take responsibility for the outcome. I believe Ada will be more useful to us alive than dead."

Wesker turned, leaving the room, his hands in his pockets.

"I hope so, Crow."

The organization wasn't built on trust. Neither was this new pact, it seemed. But Crow had everything he wanted. Ada was just icing on the cake. The rest of the organization's operatives would be located. The smart ones would be eliminated. The oblivious ones would be kept for further use. But not Ada. She would be Crow's trump card. Besides, he needed a new assistant. He wouldn't mind having her around more often. He could even do away with Ulrich with her skills.

Wesker was smart, but so was Crow. He would give the man credit for suspecting Ada, but that was all. He had no idea of the influence she had in his plans. Wesker was too interested in the micro-scale; biochemistry and the like. Crow liked to look at the bigger picture. Even the smallest things could have a drastic impact on the future. It was a basic principle in chaos theory. Crow knew the mathematical details by heart, but what was the layman's term for it...?

His mind drifted to the brooch that Ada wore on her beautiful neck.

_Ah yes, the butterfly effect._

It would be interesting to see what happened the next time Ada flapped her wings. Very interesting indeed.

**The End**


End file.
